The fan stories made for some pretty compelling viewing. Dunn and McFadyen proved adept at this in their previous documentaries, and "Flight 666" is no exception. There was the priest who preached the morality of Maiden's lyrics, and who had one hundred and sixty-two Iron Maiden tattoos; there was the long-haired, bearded bloke who broke down in tears after the show was over; there were the fans in Columbia who were patted down by soldiers before being allowed inside the stadium; there was the guy who quit his job to see Iron Maiden; there were the fans who had camped out on streets and medians for weeks before the show; there were the mobs who waited in terminals and lobbies, waiting for a glimpse, a picture, a wave, an autograph.

The documentary presents the six members of Iron Maiden as down-to-earth guys when they're not onstage. It's a dimension Dunn and McFadyen provide well, ensuring that we don't get overloaded with how legendary Iron Maiden is : Nicko McBrain (drums) plays a round or two golf, and gets hit by a stray ball in the process; Adrian Murray (guitars) enjoys a game of tennis while Steve Harris laces his football boots. "The Decline of Western Civilization" this is not - Maiden are too old (and maybe too classy, now) for the debauchery of sex, drugs and rock 'n roll. Instead, McBrain haggles over the price of a tourist trinket in Mexico; the asking price is $350, but he says it's worth $5, just like the one he has at home.

"Iron Maiden: Flight 666" captures the elder statesmen of heavy metal  flying the flag high all over the world. This documentary shows that, thirty-five years after their first album, there's not only plenty of gas in Maiden's tank, but it's a hell of a fun ride, too.