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'Beauty Shop': Like a sitcom, heavy on cut-and-dry jokes

By HAP ERSTEIN
Palm Beach Post

Seeing Beauty Shop? Think Barbershop.

That's because the new Queen Latifah vehicle Beauty Shop is either a spinoff or a knockoff.

MGM Pictures 'Beauty Shop' C+ The verdict: A female Barbershop knockoff, clumsily executed, but saved by Latifah's presence. Director: Bille Woodruff Starring: Queen Latifah, Alicia Silverstone, Andie MacDowell, Kevin Bacon Run time: 105 minutes Release date: March 30, 2005 Rating: PG-13 for sexual material, language and brief drug references. See showtimes On the web Official movie site View the trailer   -- Trailers require Quicktime Rate "Beauty Shop"   Go see it   Make it a matinee   Wait to rent   Don't bother Voter Limit: Once per Hour View Poll Results

Once again, we go inside a tonsorial establishment to learn that cutting and styling hair is the least of the attractions of these places.

They are the social, political and racial community centers, where, in the case of Beauty Shop, women can congregate, let down their hair and gab about whatever is on their minds, which is usually men and sex.

It sticks to the Barbershop formula with a gender change, is less well-written and far less original. Still, Latifah is a pleasant enough presence, and the rest of the cast is sufficiently amiable that most moviegoers will probably not mind how clumsily this movie has been put together.

Hard-working single mom Gina Norris (Latifah) has moved to Atlanta, largely for the sake of her talented daughter Vanessa's (Paige Hurd) musical education. Quickly, Gina becomes the top beautician at an upscale salon owned and run by the terribly affected, unidentifiably accented Jorge Christophe (Kevin Bacon, who is either just in this for fun or is paying off a lost election bet).

Hassled by Jorge one time too many, Gina walks out, determined to open her own shop in the inner city. This she does when a reticent bank officer agrees to float the business a loan after Gina gives her a terrific comb-out. Most of the black, sassy stylists follow her to the new parlor, along with a token white character, Alicia Silverstone as clueless Southern cracker Lynn, a shampoo girl never given the chance to show she can curl up and dye as well as anyone at Jorge's.

Things quickly go wrong for the shop, which has insufficient electrical wiring and attracts a snoopy city code inspector. Small-business proprietors will probably identify with Gina's woes, but never doubt that her problems will evaporate by the final fade-out, despite Jorge's efforts to sabotage her.

Gina turns out to be a savvy employer, a caring supermom, an alluring, big-bootied romantic interest for a sensitive, piano-playing electrician (the dignified Djimon Hounsou of In America) and a punch-line-snapping, proud black woman.

Director Billie Woodruff (Honey) has gathered an enjoyable ensemble cast, even if Kate Lanier and Norman Vance Jr.'s screenplay leaves them underemployed. Alfre Woodard gets a rare opportunity to do comedy, spouting jokes and Maya Angelou quotes, and Keshia Knight Pulliam (Remember little Rudy from The Cosby Show?) also makes a distinct image change.

Gina's few prominent white clients become the butt of jokes, notably Mena Suvari as a woman obsessed with her recent breast augmentation and Andie MacDowell as a wealthy matron who learns the physiological results of eating collard greens.

Little about Beauty Shop is more than standard sitcom fare, but that does not mean there isn't an audience for it. In fact, chances are that Beauty Shop 2 is already in the works.