MOVIE REVIEW: Beauty Shop

Need a new hairdo? Queen Latifah’s got one for you in Beauty Shop, a movie that works off of and modifies its predecessors—Barbershop and Barbershop 2—adding a feminine twist to its talented ensemble cast and blunt, sometimes crude discussions of culture, race, and sex.

The plot follows the bold Gina Norris (Latifah), who had a brief role in Barbershop 2. In the Atlanta-based Beauty Shop, Norris becomes offended by the comments of boss Jorge Christophe (Kevin Bacon), and leaves his hair salon to open her own beauty shop, accompanied by hair-washer Lynn (Alicia Silverstone).

The film follows Norris’s struggles to start her business and to keep it running, despite maintenance problems and a pesky inspector who may be up to no good. At the same time, Norris becomes romantically entangled with electrician/pianist Joe (Djimon Hounstou).

These plot developments in the beauty shop strengthen and help negate the story’s weak beginning, marked by hazy transitions, awkward close-ups, and forced character histories. When Norris comes into her own with her new workers at the shop, the film gains a heightened and refreshing energy.

The source of this energy and the true strength of the movie is a well-established core of female interaction. Norris’s employees, including Silverstone’s Lynn and Alfre Woodard’s hilarious Ms. Josephine, engage in sexually and racially comic antics. For example, the ladies have a lot of fun commenting on the sexuality of male hairdresser James (Bryce Wilson), who gives them plenty to question with his comments on details of his personal hygiene and is caught seriously grooving to a disco tune.

Director Bille Woodruff uses the relations among his female characters to highlight racial diversity, conflict, and integration. The attempts of Lynn—the only white hairdresser at the shop—to assimilate with the predominantly African American group of hair stylists is handled interestingly and honestly by Woodruff. As a reaction to her exclusion, Lynn changes her squeaky clean image, culminating in a particularly funny dance sequence. (Unlike some hokey dance routines in movies like Hitch, Silverstone, making a great comeback from Clueless, pulls off a physically-challenging Harlem shake.)

Instead of simply enforcing or exploiting the African-American stereotypes present in other films (like Soul Plane), Woodruff plays with them and allows his Beauty Shop to become a place of simultaneous racial diversity and unity. Rather than have Norris’s hairdressers make stereotypical comments for the sake of a good laugh from his audience, he allows them to intelligently display diversity and racial identity.

For instance, one of the funniest scenes in the film involves Miss Josephine’s unique interpretation of Maya Angelou’s “Still I Rise,” suggesting that Beauty’s females are connected to a rich cultural history to which they can themselves contribute.

A host of talented actors frequent Beauty Shop. Although a hint of embarrassment taints Bacon’s performance, his Jorge provides a fitting antagonist (fey white man versus tough black woman) as he tries to close the doors on Norris’s venture. Little JJ’s portrayal of the sly teenage Willie adds some youthful and exaggerated comedy to the dialogue-driven humor of those in Beauty, as he videotapes the ladies’ bottoms and develops a particular affinity for Latifah’s.

This film also features two unforgettable moments with well-known actresses: Andie MacDowell’s Terri Green—Woodruff’s representation of the standard upper-class, meek, weight-concerned trophy wife—undergoes a hysterical transformation that involves some “soul food” and weight gain; and Della Reese’s short-lived cameo as the elderly, grouchy Mrs. Towner, who awkwardly removes her teeth before her haircut, is uproarious.

Despite hilarious performances from the cast and rich conversations, the film extends in too many directions. It incorporates so many storylines and characters that it begins to lose focus, starting to feel like a series of comedic vignettes.

This criticism might cause some to deem Beauty Shop in need of its own makeover. However, this movie manages to create a universally intriguing, dialogue-driven world, which, because of its uniquely female energy and fast pace, distinguishes it from the Barbershop series.

Despite its focus on a particular group of ladies, Beauty Shop is rooted in frank conversations that we could be having with our own packs of friends. In spite of some weaknesses, there is an undeniable charm to the actors, each of whom create a distinct character with a significant role in the film’s entertaining, side-splitting, and pertinent discussions of sexuality, race, and body image.