In the 2002 hit comedy Barbershop, the film's provocative social commentary -- which centered mainly on African-American male identity -- was spontaneous and funny. Here it's a little forced and consequently not as funny, though there are many reasons to pay a second visit to Chicago's old-school tonsorial temple.

There was an edge to the banter in the first movie and some in the African-American community were offended. Now that we're familiar with the outspoken characters, the narrative has to carry more weight. Frankly, it's pretty white-bread. Thank goodness for Eddie, that shock-fro'd creation of Cedric the Entertainer. When it sticks to the put-downs and politically incorrect observations of which he's the master, Barbershop 2 is more socially incisive and entertaining than when it's serious.

A fancy chain salon called Nappy Cutz is moving in across the street, and Calvin (Ice Cube) must rally his barbers to raise their game, especially since the developer targeting the Southside neighborhood has a particular animosity toward Calvin and his humble business. With designs on the cuttery and the entire neighborhood, he's not afraid to sprinkle money around. Upwardly mobile Jimmy (Sean Patrick Thomas) has gone to work for the local Alderman (Robert Wisdom), a willing recipient of the developer's largesse. Kenan Thompson joins the ensemble as Calvin's cousin, a yapper with absolutely no haircutting skills. In one of the movie's more raucous scenes, the Alderman's photo op in the shop backfires thanks to him.

As for the others, the lone white barber Isaac (Troy Garity) is in demand and acting like it, while the tension between Terri (rapper Eve) and Ricky (Michael Ealy) comes to a boil.  Flashbacks to Eddie during the Civil Rights unrest of the 1960s explain his relationship to Calvin's dad and reveal a romance. Putting Eddie front-and-center is a smart move; he's a great character in the hands of Cedric. But this back story is too wistful. Eddie's uniqueness stems from his outrageously irreverent take on race relations. The codger still gets to fire off zingers in the sequel, for example, he calls the D.C. sniper "the Jackie Robinson of crime." And he goes toe to toe with cast addition Queen Latifah in a hilarious sequence. But more verbal sparring would have been better than the stroll down memory lane. Eddie’s contemporary subway encounter with a white yuppie is a case of when humor can best highlight a serious point.

The other focal point of the plot is Calvin’s choice. As he gets caught up in Chi-town politics, he has to choose between money and his community. Naturally the new father does the right thing by standing up for folks who would be displaced by the development project. The success of Barbershop was a surprise to just about everyone. They haven’t sold out in the sequel but they’ve played it safe. Taken as a pair, the two movies are exuberant lessons in how comedy is a better format for penetrating social commentary than drama. When not straining to be poignant, Barbershop 2 is enlightening entertainment. 

(Released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and rated "PG-13" for language, sexual material and brief drug references.)