In 2002, MTV gave Osbourne a chance to prove his point. The result was The Osbournes, a home-based reality show whose singular moments included the aging rocker trying to work a TV remote and picking up the family dog’s poop. An immediate hit, the show drew 8 million viewers at its peak and kicked open the door for everyone from Pawn Stars to the Kardashians.
Whether or not all those viewers (or even Osbourne himself) were fully aware of the fact, the show was a remaking machine that catalyzed Ozzy’s personal brand—distinct from his black-caped stage mania and, in his unselfconscious befuddlement, one that turned out to be self-effacing, funny, and extremely likable.
It’s one reason why, in the I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter spot, the two Ozzys could stand at a kitchen counter strewn with human skulls and everyone got the joke.
Today, a generation later, the notion of celebrities being brands unto themselves is a given. But the emergence of the real, and surprisingly ordinary, Ozzy Osbourne was an early peek at how important those brands would end up being, and how agreeable—and ultimately bankable—they are.