If any artist deserved a hagiography it was Hendrix, and Joe Boyd's 1973 "authorised" tribute The Jimi Hendrix Story adequately sanctifies the legend. Perversely for a documentary, it achieves this simply by well-chosen concert footage rather than through the insights of the various talking heads. Pete Townshend, Eric Clapton, Mick Jagger, Lou Reed and Germaine Greer are all wheeled out to wax lyrical about their days with Jimi--but nothing is more eloquent than watching and listening to him play. From "Hey Joe" in grainy black and white on Ready Steady Go, classic footage of Monterey, Woodstock (yes, "The Star-Spangled Banner") and the Isle of White festivals, to an acoustic 12-string rendition of "Hear My Train a' Comin'", Hendrix the musician speaks for himself.

But if Hendrix the musician shines through, this is not the most insightful profile of Hendrix the man: the circumstances surrounding his death, for example, are hardly touched upon (girlfriend at the time Monika Dannemann gets only a few seconds screen time). Interview footage with Hendrix himself plus some occasionally rambling and incoherent comments from such intimates as his father, army buddies, ex-girlfriends (including Linda Keith, who "discovered" him in New York and brought him to England) and fellow musicians all take second place to the music itself. The most sensible quote comes from Little Richard, who proves once and for all that he's utterly bonkers, when he says of Jimi's music: "At times he made my big toes shoot up into my boot."

On the DVD: This is a dual-layer disc, with a widescreen (1.85:1) print on one side and a standard (4:3) ratio version on the other--although watching in widescreen is redundant, as the film is shot in 4:3 anyway. There are no extras other than a theatrical trailer (despite being advertised as such a menu and scene access surely don't count as "special features": what use is a disc without them?) --Mark Walker

A venture into franchise-building from the children's cable channel Nickelodeon, Jimmy Neutron Boy Genius arrives in concert with a TV series and a great deal of merchandising muscle. Set in the charmingly designed town of Retroville, which boasts sleek 1950s lines, the film introduces Jimmy (voiced by Debi Derryberry), a pint-sized kid with a penchant for elaborate and almost-successful inventions (a time-speeding microwave for cultivating pearls, a shrinking ray which confusingly looks too much like a TV remote, a girl-eating plant) and the usual array of sidekicks (asthmatic Carl Wheezer, robot dog Goddard) and nemeses (smart girl Cindy Vortex, supposed tough kid Nick).

Thanks to Jimmy's attempts to contact alien civilisations, the Earth is noticed by a race of formless green slime creatures who live in egg-shaped glass housings. Just as Jimmy, frustrated by parental disapproval of his often-malfunctioning gadgets ("no rockets in the house"), wishes all parents would disappear, the alien king (Patrick Stewart) stages a mass abduction of the town's adults so they can be sacrificed to his race's giant chicken god. After a riotous discipline-free day, the kids decide they miss their mummies and daddies. Jimmy converts some carnival rides into a space fleet so the kids can rescue the grown-ups.

Less inflated and elaborate than Pixar CGI efforts like the Toy Story films or Monsters, Inc., Jimmy Neutron is lightly likeable rather than overwhelmingly wonderful. The music choices (with the exception of an eerily apt use of "The Birdy Song" as an instrument of torture) are lazily standardised (mostly kiddie rap) and the outsider-saves-the-day fairy tale plot is formulaic. But there's a great deal of invention around the margins (dozens of gags designed to become apparent only after repeated viewings), the villains are wonderful creations (when their shells break, they become green puddles with eyes) and it manages both smarts and sweets (Carl's "I Touched a Llama" badge). --Kim Newman

Aliens abduct all adults; genius Jimmy and his friends build an interstellar spacefleet and rescue them.