Kramnick’s BurkenIsaac Kramnick: The Rage ofnEdmund Burke: Portrait of annAmbivalent Conservative;nBasic Books; New York, 1977.nProf. Kramnick seems to be anotherncasualty of the epidemic raging amongnliberal scholars—the dementia sexualis.nIts symptoms are easily discernible: annacademic person, mostly in the field ofnhumanities, feverishly begins to trace thenconception of ideas, art, social movements,nhistorical facts, as well as thenbehavior of historical figures, solely tonthe genitals of all involved. An entirengeneration of scholarly hustlers andnplayboys appear to be in the making.nIn other times, students amused themselvesnspinning theories about battles lostnbecause of emperors and field marshalsnhaving been caught with their pantsndown; or about poets whose exclamationsnof grief or outrage were stimulatednby a merciless itching in the parts ofntheir personalities most unsuited for ansource of poetry. We tended to see it in ansophomoric pastime. This century’sndebate on whether the genitals engendernand conceive more than just othernhumans began with some features ofnseriousness. Freud attributed to thoseninstruments an uncanny power to generatendreams and neuroses, and discoveredntheir indirect relation with manynhuman endeavors, from creativeness toncrime. But the American scholarly playboy’snfascination with them of late seemsnto have skipped Freud and gotten out ofnhand. Prof. Kramnick illustrates thenfailing: the bombastic pretentiousnessnand unctuous empathy with which henelaborates on “real” Burke and hisnfaiblesse, rather well known before hisnbook, border on caricature. “There is annair of plausibility which accompaniesnvulgar reasonings and notions, takennfrom the beaten circle of ordinary experience,nthat is admirably suited to thennarrow capacities of some . . .” Burkenwrote in the preface to the secondnedition of A Vindication of Naturaln24inChronicles of CulturenSociety, published in 1757. These wordsnread today as a trenchant anticipationnof the libcultural climate in America ofnthe ’70s. It is doubtful, however, whethernScreennthe Kramnicks will ascribe their relevancento themselves. Most likely, theynwill see in them the expression ofntroubled glands. DnThe Impossibility of Being DispassionatenThe Turning Point; directed bynHerbert Ross; written by ArthurnLaurents; 20th Century Fox.nby Eric ShapearonThis is a perfect mediocrity of anmovie. It is written with a mediocre sensenof melodrama, and directed with thenmediocre skills of a cinematic craftsman.nIt displays, at moments, interestingncamera work, and, throughout, thenhabitually acceptable performances of oldnHollywood hands—Anne Bancroft andnShirley MacLaine. The picture’s humannmessage is smoothly tailored into inoffensivenand not unpleasant platitudesnabout the difficulties of existentialnchoices. Mediocre banalities flow incessantlynfrom the screen to the audience.nAnd in the midst of this fiesta of mediocrity,ndance sequences dazzle as performednby Mikhail Baryshnikov, perhaps thengreatest living ballet dancer. They arencouched in first-rate imagery by the bestnchoreographers and stage and costumendesigners in New York. To be sure, thenballet element is suffused with what cannbe termed glamorized realism—a relativelynnew Hollywood concoction thatnmixes tinsel with slickly conceptualizedntruth: the ballerinas are covered withnperspiration, their feet with blisters, butnlife in their environment seems to benreduced to rather modish stereotypesnabout the sexual routines and traps ofnsuccess, no more profound than thenchaste tearjerkers of the early ’50s.nThere is, however, one aspect of thenmovie which bothers at least this review-nEric Shapearo feels impressed by movies,non occasion, but never by stars.nnner. Can, should, or ought, a critic as wellnas the regular movie watcher, who knowsnmore about Miss MacLaine than is conveyednby her performance, remainnunbiased toward her presence on screen?nA difficult and complex question, thoughnall too easy answers can be delivered fromnthe standpoint of the enlightened toleration,nliberal righteousness, progressivensanctimony. How could a viewer benaffected by the actor’s political attitude?nIsn’t it solely the actor’s art that counts?nIsn’t she or he fully entitled to take anynposition she or he wishes, without generatingnany feelings in us other than thosenstimulated by the acting itself? Of course,nhe and she is, and the public cannotndemand that one become an ideologicalnneuter because of one’s profession ornvocation. Nonetheless, it is not a matternof substance or logic, but of a specificndegree of exposure as given by the liberalnmedia to those who espouse the predominantnliberal philosophies. The more sonas Miss MacLaine is far beyond the liberalnrange of colors—she is an unabashedncommunist sympathizer who spoutsndimwitted slogans about Maoist Chinanor Ho Chi Minh Vietnam—all of themnalacritously relayed to the common folksnby the liberal establishment. MissnMacLaine told a receptive New YorknTimes reporter that she recently visitednCuba, where she spoke about ThenTurning Point with Cuban womennwho “… told me ‘we don’t understandnyour part… why did the character younplay give up her work to get married?’ “nAnd Miss MacLaine adds: “Fidel is verynstrong about women’s rights—two yearsnago, they made it part of the CubannConstitution that men have to do 507onof the housework there . . .” So Missn