Is a whip the right conditioner?

"Tabatha's Salon Takeover," which premieres tonight at 10, is Bravo's contribution to the growing sub-genre of "whip it" television, in which self-anointed experts, preferably with non-American accents, parachute into crisis situations -- a floundering restaurant, a discipline-challenged family -- and whip everyone into shape. As the title might indicate, "Tabatha's Salon Takeover" provides this service for struggling hair salons. A "Kitchen Nightmares" setup, only with hair instead of food and stylist/salon owner Tabatha Coffey instead of Gordon Ramsay.

And therein lies the problem. For reasons that are self-evident, hair is not as interesting as food, salons are not as dynamic or dramatic as restaurants and Coffey, well, she's no Gordon Ramsay. Colonel Saito from "The Bridge on the River Kwai" maybe, but no Gordon Ramsay.

Let's pretend for a moment that there is an audience, beyond hair stylists, for a show set in a salon, though those looking for some sexed-up reality version of "Shampoo" should know, right off the bat, that ain't happenin'. This is all about the business and passion of hair styling.

The pilot takes us to a local joint -- Ten Salon in Long Beach, where husband and wife team Chris and Kwanna have mortgaged themselves within a fare-thee-well creating a salon that is losing money on a daily basis and putting a strain on their marriage. Enter Tabatha. With her short white-blond hair, icy pale eyes and penchant for black, she strides through the salon barking questions and criticism like some graphic novel Nazi dominatrix who, for reasons that will be revealed later, just happens to have an Australian accent. You feel that her decision to forgo a riding crop was a last-minute one and could be reversed in subsequent episodes.

Needless to say, she is not pleased at all with what she sees. Not. Pleased. At. All. Through the questionable use of surveillance cameras, Tabatha determines that the stylists are sloppy and yet micromanaged. She finds Kwanna's use of a Bible-thick rules and regs guide ridiculous and Chris' passion for the whole project questionable. (Apparently Tabatha receives a monetary bonus for each time she uses the word "passion.") Contrary to every management class offered post-Robber Baron, she shakes her head, rolls her eyes, spits out negative commentary and generally embodies the disapproving-mother image that has fueled the psychotherapy industry for so many years. Kwanna and one stylist are reduced to tears and everyone else just looks shell-shocked and very soft around the middle.