Gina works as a hair stylist for demanding and demeaning European owner Jorge Christophe (KEVIN BACON) who routinely takes credit for Gina's work and has no problem putting down lowly shampoo girl Lynn (ALICIA SILVERSTONE). When Gina has finally had enough, she quits and decides to open her own beauty shop with Lynn in tow.

It's not long before Gina's previous clients from Jorge's salon -- including Atlanta socialites Joanne Marcus (MENA SUVARI) and Terri Green (ANDIE MacDOWELL) -- follow her to her place, where she has to jettison some of the stylists who worked for the previous owner.

Others, however, such as Miss Josephine (ALFRE WOODARD), Chanel (GOLDEN BROOKS) and the pregnant Ida (SHERRI SHEPHERD), stay on, while Gina brings on new stylists such as James (BRYCE WILSON). She must also put up with an eclectic assortment of characters who enter her shop every day, such as Willie (LIL' JJ), a boy hustler who's into videotaping women's posteriors.

For Gina, it's not all work and no play, however, as she soon finds herself attracted to Joe (DJIMON HOUNSOU), the electrician/piano player who lives upstairs from her shop. Even so, Gina must worry about making ends meet and keeping the shop open, all while dealing with a tough state inspector and the efforts of Jorge to sabotage her business.

Rock also did an observational joke -- some of it based in reality -- that while films made for white audiences are real ones with real characters and real names, black ones don't have real names. Instead, he joked, they're about places or events such "Car Wash" and "Cookout," with "Laundromat" and "Check-Cashing Place" certainly coming soon. Of course, the two "Barbershop" movies fit that racial profiling, as does their spin-off film, "Beauty Shop."

If that sounds like a female twist on the predominantly male-oriented "Barbershop" films, you'd be correct. Those earlier and popular efforts focused on a black man trying to run the titular business while dealing with a varied assortment of customers and an eclectic collection of workers. They all debated, commented on and/or joked about day to day events, racial issues and more, just as routinely occurs in such real establishments day in and day out.

Apparently not needing or wanting to stray far from that formula, screenwriters Kate Lanier ("Glitter," "Set it Off") and Norman Vance Jr. (the TV show "Girlfriends") and director Bille Woodruff ("Honey") have simply switched the genders with this effort. This time, rather than Ice Cube running the barbershop filled with men and a few token women, it's Queen Latifah ("Taxi," "Chicago") operating a beauty salon where -- you guessed it -- there's a varied assortment of customers and an eclectic collection of workers but with the reverse gender ratio.

Accordingly, if you enjoyed the previous films and their cutting brand of humor, you might enjoy the comedy stylings here. That said, this is more of a comedy for those who prefer, enjoy or feel it necessary to talk back to the screen rather than sit back and watch anything resembling sophisticated or creative humor.

There are jokes and running gags about racial issues, breast implants, whether a mail hairstylist is gay, a young woman who dates stereotypical thugs and players, and more. While the jokes' success is obviously firmly rooted in the reaction of one's funny bone, I found that most, at best, were amusing, and, at worst, displayed a lame sitcom sort of structure and mentality.

The film is horribly edited, and when coupled with the director's inability to keep the comedic momentum flowing, results in a choppy offering that herks and jerks its way from one joke or dramatic moment to the next. There's also a surprising degree of sexual material and humor -- none of it particularly as clever as occurs in most sex comedies -- that stretches the film's PG-13 rating to its limit and then some.

Performances are pretty much rote for an offering of this caliber, although there are some exceptions. Latifah is decent as the central character, but as an actress, she's so much better than the lame material with which she must work.

Paige Hurd ("The Cat in the Hat," "Cradle 2 the Grave") appears as her musically gifted daughter, while Djimon Hounsou ("Constantine," "In America") will certainly set the ladies' hearts aflutter when he shows up shirtless. He's also a good performer who deserves better than this material, and I kept wishing the three of them could have appeared in another film separate from the beauty shop shenanigans that dominate this one.

Kevin Bacon ("The Woodsman," "Mystic River") is a hoot as a flamboyant Eurotrash salon owner (although he's similarly limited by the script playing the occasionally seen antagonist), but Alicia Silverstone ("Blast From the Past," "Clueless") is completely off as the lone white girl who works there (her southern accent is awful) and Andie MacDowell ("Harrison's Flowers," "The Muse") is pretty much wasted as an Atlanta socialite with a bad husband.

Keshia Knight Pulliam (TV's "The Cosby Show") is all grown up playing the scantly clad, promiscuous young thing, Mena Suvari ("Sugar and Spice," "American Beauty") is as stiff as ever, Alfre Woodard ("Radio," "The Core") is wasted playing some sort of Maya Angelou type role, and Bryce Wilson ("Hair Show," "Trois") plays the standard hunky good guy character.

While the film will probably play well to its target audience that Rock singled out in the Oscar® show, it just feels like a lame estrogen spin on the already tired and redundant material found in the previous "Barbershop" films. "Beauty Shop" rates as as a 3.5 out of 10.