There's D.D. (DE'ANGELO WILSON), a flamboyantly gay stylist who always teases Ricky (DONDRE WHITFIELD) about being a closet homosexual, although everyone else assumes he sleeps with his clients such as Tami (BROOKE BURNS), one of the few white women to show up in the place. Her presence doesn't sit well with Trina (TARAL HICKS) who sleeps with men just to receive expensive gifts from them. They all wonder why Brenda (MONICA CALHOUN) stays with her abusive boyfriend Patrick (TERRENCE HOWARD), while old-timer Percy (GARRET MORRIS) likes to come in and chew the fat when not interacting with various neighborhood characters who stop by, such as two prostitutes as well as the local drunk.

As all of them interact with each other, Jenny tries to fight the city, all while finding herself falling for Michael, her supposed enemy in her legal battle.

Yet, at the same time, those very same people eventually tire of the latest top of the head fashion -- out of boredom, the desire for something new and/or different, and sometimes an acute attack of common sense -- and move on to the next one. The same holds true for certain movie styles that eventually wear out their welcome for most of the same reasons.

"Way back" in the mid '00s, there was a small influx of urban dramedies set in inner-city places of hair care, notably "Barbershop" (2002), "Barbershop 2" (2004), and "Beauty Shop" (2005). They all featured beleaguered owners of such establishments who not only had to deal with the assortment of characters who served as both employees and customers (and the resultant discussions, arguments and jokes about an equally divergent array of topics, often race-related), but also some external problem that threatened to undermine their efforts.

Unbeknownst to moviegoers back in 2005, another such film was made and scheduled to be released that year, but was beat to the punch by Queen Latifah's movie. It was "Salon," a lame comedy that's best described as "Beauty Shop's" twin from which it was apparently separated at cinematic birth (or at least in some story pitch session, the kind of which generates these sorts of "double" flicks).

Of course, its story and thematic similarities shouldn't be that surprising considering that the same guy - Mark Brown -- responsible for the Ice Cube double feature also wrote and directed this film (that's based on Shelley Garrett's play). Essentially the same movie with the to-be-expected differences in specific characters and storylines, it's a pic that's well past its time.

That's not only due to being the fourth such film out of the gate, but also because of its "current" references to the Jennifer Lopez/Ben Affleck relationship, Anna Nicole Smith still being alive, and the old "shock and awe" verbiage of the Iraq War. For that reason (as well as just being a poorly made film), it probably should have made a beeline straight to video.

Like its predecessors, this offering is the kind that might play well to a certain audience demographic, but otherwise has little to no crossover appeal to anyone else. Neither the comedy nor the dramatic elements work well individually or collectively, and the "hot button" topics of discussion in the beauty parlor feel like reused curlers from the previous films.

There are bits about why black men like white women, a woman sleeping with men just for the expensive gifts, prostitution, homosexuality, the debate of whether "time outs" or "ass whoopings" are better for children, and more. Yet, little if any of it's remotely interesting or funny, thanks to a lack of zing in the dialogue as written and/or failure in the performers to make it seem real and thus pop off the screen.

The drama -- revolving around the shop owner (Vivica A. Fox) trying to keep her place from being turned into a parking lot by the city's use of eminent domain, and then falling for the lawyer on the opposite side (Darrin Dewitt Henson) -- doesn't fare any better. That's especially true when the overly manipulative and ill-timed when not just plain wrong soundtrack kicks in and undermines everything.

Even Garret Morris, who was once so funny and often incendiary long, long ago in the early days of "Saturday Night Live" is pretty much neutered here playing an old geezer who stops in just to hang around the salon. And Terrence Howard (in his pre "Hustle and Flow" days) plays an abusive boyfriend who seems like he can't wait to be done with this project to move on to something bigger and better.

Most viewers will likely feel the same way, especially after they've already tried on this sort of cinematic hairstyle several times before. Despite just two years of being in the can, "Salon" feels as dated and out of place as some of the jokes and comments contained within it. One can only hope that this mini-genre inherited some sort of baldness gene that will prevent another such strand from popping up anytime in the future. The film rates as a 3 out of 10.