He has blazed trails all over the world with heavy metal legends Iron Maiden – sometimes flying the band himself, in his side gig as a qualified airline pilot – and sonically super-powered singer Bruce Dickinson has “bloody good” reasons to keep Australia on the must-return list.
Among them, our general attitude, which he rates highly; the forthcoming Rugby World Cup; and something small, brown and furry.
Yes, the hard rocker loves a cuddly quokka.
Recalling a previous visit as “one of the best times of my life,” the affable Brit says “my wife and I … spent most of our time hunting for quokkas on Rottnest Island and came back with a million fridge magnets about quokkas, and some movies.”
“I love it,” he enthuses, then moots further wildlife-focused exploration, before adding a note of realism: “If I ever get time”.
Because time, for a veteran band as vital and hardworking as Maiden, is a ticking inconvenience. There is a sense that Dickinson – extraordinarily energetic for a 67-year-old, especially one who has faced cancer – and the gang do not want to waste a moment: whether that’s playing together, crafting side projects or releasing must-have Maiden content beyond the music, such as last year’s Infinite Dreams book, to their worldwide fanbase.
The newest such creation, big-screen documentary Iron Maiden: Burning Ambition, shows how that titular drive has spanned the band’s five-decade journey, from starting out in the pubs of London’s East End to filling stadiums worldwide.
The movie, which opens in cinemas worldwide on May 7, is a feast of old and recent footage, new interviews and guest contributions, all meshed together with so much music. And it stays true to the Maiden formula: down-to-earth people, epic finished product.
Directed by filmmaker Malcolm Venville, it is fascinating, fun and frank, at times fearlessly so – for example, when showing how the relentless pace of the album-tour-album-repeat cycle of their 80s ascent took a heavy toll: five band members dropped out, not always voluntarily. Even Dickinson left, replaced for two albums in the 90s, before returning along with fan-favourite guitarist Adrian Smith to kickstart Maiden’s even-more-successful 2000s era: two-plus decades of extraordinary achievements punctuated by the challenges of Dickinson’s throat cancer and drummer Nicko McBrain suffering a stroke that forced his withdrawal from touring.
“I love the film,” Dickinson says. “We (the band) were pretty hands-off in terms of the storyline. Obviously, the timeline is fairly fixed. Things happened at certain points in our career. But the nuance and the dramas, the relationships, the shock, the people sadly passing away, people getting sick, illness, how we coped with that, you know, me leaving, me coming back, all of that, I think, was dealt with very honestly.
“And I wouldn’t want to change anything in the film. People say, ‘Oh, there’s that bit where Nicko slags you off for leaving the band’ and I’m just like, ‘that’s great’. “Because it’s true, it’s emotional, it is real. Does Nicko slag me off now? No, we get on great, he’s my mate and he’s still in the band, but stuff like that happens, you know, so I think it’s really cool. It’s well done. I think (director) Malcolm has done a fantastic job. We did hours of interviews for the film, individually, obviously. And Malcolm just picked the bits he wanted.”
There’s no shortage of levity either. Among utterly joyous moments is footage of the band gatecrashing a wedding reception during a tour of Cold War-era Poland, jamming Deep Purple for delighted and bemused guests. At one point an ebullient Dickinson tells an earnest fan “you can’t play heavy metal with synthesisers”, presumably not realising Maiden would start using synths on their very next album and continue to this day.
“That’s the joys of callow youth, you know the self-confidence of somebody full of piss and vinegar and 25 years old, or however old I was,” he laughs. “And it’s brilliant because it’s truthful.”
The band’s request that the new interviews be audio-only – “one of the few stipulations we made” – was a canny one: it makes room for a treasure chest of archival material, which in turn creates a tighter visual pace.
(Side note: The doco does feature some traditional “talking heads”, from ordinary fans to big names like Kiss main man Gene Simmons, Metallica drummer Lars Ulrich, Public Enemy rapper Chuck D, Rage Against The Machine guitarist and Bruce Springsteen collaborator Tom Morello; movie star Javier Bardem is particularly animated in his enthusiasm for Maiden.)
Another stipulation was the inclusion of former members alongside the iconic line-up of band leader and founding bassist Steve Harris, guitarists Smith, Dave Murray and Janick Gers, Dickinson and McBrain, whose stool is now occupied on stage by Simon Dawson.
“The only requirement we made at the beginning of the film, after we saw the first edit, was maybe we should have a little bit more Clive in there,” says Dickinson, referring to the late Clive Burr, drummer for the first three of Maiden’s 17 studio albums.
“Because you have to respect the legacy of everybody that’s been in the band, you know. I mean (original singer) Paul Di’Anno, Clive, they were huge contributors to the style of the first two and three records. So it’s really important that you respect that, and in particular, because both of them now have passed away (Burr in 2013, Di’Anno in 2024), so they can’t talk for themselves anymore. Luckily, we had interviews with Paul before he very sadly passed away.”
Mortality and time. There they are again, but Dickinson does not seem unduly worried. Asked if a new album might follow 2021’s muscular Senjutsu, he says, “No plans for it at the moment. If you ask me as an individual, would I like to do another album, I’m like, ‘Yeah, get me in the studio next week’. But I think Steve’s take on it is that he just wants to play live until he can’t play live anymore. That’s more his focus.
“I mean, I’m putting words into his mouth, obviously. You’d have to speak to him about it. But that’s the impression I get: he’s not averse to the idea of doing another album, but only when we’ve basically stopped touring. And that won’t be for a while, you know, so you’ll have to put up with my solo album next year, which is a banger. It really is.”
Underscoring the touring point, Maiden – who last played Australia in late 2024 – will be back in November on the Run For Your Lives tour, which means the band won’t be present in person for their long-overdue induction into the Rock’n’Roll Hall of Fame. Sadly for their WA fans (and those quokkas), they won’t be playing Perth this time, for which Dickinson apologises. And, slightly mysteriously, he offers the reassurance “there’s never going to be an actual end” to Iron Maiden.
“Because although we might retire from touring – and we’re not going to do that anytime soon – we have plans and plans and plans”. Indicating the band’s unmistakeable mascot Eddie, he grins: “Eddie will continue. Eddie has a great future. He might even do his own album, who knows?”
Fine by me: let’s just hope Eddie’s backing band features Messrs Dickinson, Harris, Smith and the boys.
Iron Maiden: Burning Ambition opens worldwide in cinemas on May 7.