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Fifty years on, the world’s most beloved heavy metal band can do anything they like – so here, then, is an immense declaration of intent, told from the point of view of the band and their legions of fans. A doc about why ‘Maiden’ is so beloved by so many.
The film jumps through their rags-to-riches story in linear fashion, mining the band’s archive, adding flourishes of animation, and having the band reflect today, off-camera. The contemporary to-camera interviews fall to celebrity super-fans like Javier Bardem, Lars Ulrich and Tom Morello, as well as a bizarrely diverse number of Maiden obsessives from around the world – everyone from doctors and first responders to artists and journalists rabidly adore the band. And they’re all more than happy to say why.
The focus pretty much stays on the music. Unlike, say, Metallica: Some Kind of Monster, there is little analysis of the band’s relationships. There’s barely a mention of wives or girlfriends – or, for that matter, the occasional controversy. Aside from original singer Paul Di’Anno, who walked early with substance abuse issues, the band members appear healthy and well-balanced, particularly his replacement Bruce Dickinson. Whatever happens on the road appears to stay there. Spinal Tap, this is not.
There are, though, rising tensions, particularly as the band burns through their 1980s peak, leaving them drained after back-to-back albums and relentless touring. As they attempt to push through with a new singer, the 1990s sees them reduced to a club band, with grunge pushing metal to the fringes, and Maiden’s fan base increasingly staying away.
Happily, the dawn of a new century turns out to be the band’s golden hour, with Dickinson back in the fold – shorn of hair and looking more like a super-fit dad than a rock god – as he gears up to be the band’s global touring pilot. Only age can wither them, with long-time drummer Nicko McBrain poignantly forced to bow out after a stroke, as the film closes in 2025.
A joyous love letter to Maiden, pure and simple
Iron Maiden has long-defied a lack of mainstream media support with their army of fans. The band’s also enjoyed a degree of anonymity, thanks to the ever-present figure of Eddie: the ever-changing skeleton who adorns every album cover and has long been the face of the band. Despite hailing from the scrappy east London pub scene of the 1970s, and touring the stadiums of the world in the years since, the lads remain curiously camera shy, happy to hide behind their instantly recognisable mascot, animated here for maximum effect.
There are plenty of references to their huge, inclusive appeal. As Dickinson declares to an adoring crowd, Maiden is for everybody, no matter where you come from. That collective sense of unity, rebellion and resilience is felt here in spades, dating all the way back to their early shows at London’s famed The Marquee Club. Refusing to follow in the footsteps of punk, as the record labels demanded, they remained true to themselves – a fact that only makes their fans love them more. This is, then, a joyous love letter to Maiden, pure and simple.
In UK and Ireland cinemas May 7.