Both by age and temperament—if not by celebrity–I’m an obvious candidate to join the ranks of TV’s ‘Grumpy Old Men’, and in that role I’d normally be the first to fulminate about ‘dumbing down’ as an inescapable fact of contemporary life.  So, for example, I was spitting expletives over the BBC Trust’s recent recommendation that Radio 3 should continue its process of becoming ‘more accessible’ (and hence, presumably, becoming simply Classic FM without the adverts).  For me, it’s already so ‘dumbed down’ that, for most of the time, I can’t bear to listen to it.

But this week’s Oscar ceremony got me thinking on a different tack.  Not so much because of the four Oscars awarded to ‘The King’s Speech’ where, whatever its very considerable merits as a film, one can’t help suspecting that the USA’s curious obsession with the UK Royals, and that imminent wedding, had something to do with it.  No, it was the list of nominees for ‘Best Picture’ that really struck me.  Surely this must be the strongest (and longest) list of Best Picture candidates in years.  It’s not just that many of them, including ‘The King’s Speech’ could be considered as ‘independent’ (in approach, even if some were still made within the Hollywood system), it’s that so many of them are literate, imaginative, serious and quite demanding of their audiences.  ‘Inception’ is the only real ‘blockbuster’ in traditional terms, and although I found it a lot less interesting than all the hype suggested, it’s still streets ahead of the abysmal ‘Avatar’, last year’s ‘big’ nominee.

And then there’s the move away from the reliance on digital effects. With the obvious exception of ‘Toy Story 3’ none of the nominees for Best Picture uses 3D, or even uses CGI in a substantial way (Christopher Nolan is one of a band of directors—JJ Abrams of recent ‘Star Trek’ fame is another—who now do as many visual effects ‘in camera’ as possible).     Strong storytelling is a common factor, as are a sense of place, and a focus on character inter-action.

So I started thinking about other areas where there might be evidence of ‘dumbing up’.  The Highlands and Islands media were full, last week, of stories about the extraordinary demand for tickets for the tour by Mumford and Sons, winners of ‘Best Group’ at the Brit Awards.  Here in Inverness, I’m told, the queue from the Ironworks stretched all the way down Academy Street.  So I employed the ever-useful Spotify to listen to the album that’s caused all this fuss.  And it’s great.  Memorable, individual, literate (again), imaginative.  It’s not that Mumford and Sons are necessarily better than previous winners of this title, it’s that they hardly fit any normal template for a successful pop act.  Their roots are in 70s folk and the early days of prog rock.  They unashamedly reference Shakespeare in their lyrics. Many of the songs don’t even use a drumkit.  Their knowledge –and understanding–of the past fifty years of popular music is extraordinary for such young artists (Marcus Mumford is only 24).

What about TV then?  Surely we’re still awash in a depressing flood of talent and ‘reality’ shows and soaps?  Well, as someone once said, thank goodness 95% of TV is rubbish, as it’s hard enough keeping up with the 5% that’s good!  We forget how the supposed ‘golden’ days of TV—Civilisation, Play for Today, Z-Cars,  Brideshead Revisited—also involved huge amounts of dire stuff: game shows, sitcoms that were so offensive they’re now unwatchable and possible illegal, endless American and pseudo-American ‘dramas’ that did little more than fill airspace. Now we have the astounding glories of BBC4 quietly infiltrating, and influencing, the ‘mainstream’ channels through repeats on BBC2, we have American dramas like ‘The Wire’ and ‘Deadwood’ that can match anything the BBC has produced at its best, and we have (who’d have thought it?) subtitled European crime dramas becoming must-see cults.  OK, the most popular drama of the past year, ‘Downton Abbey’, may have been a cosy throwback to the days of ‘The Forsyte Saga’ and ‘Upstairs Downstairs’, and its storyline may be very much plotting by numbers, but it has  a density of visual references, character and dialogue that demand that audiences really pay attention.

And while Radio 3 may be on a slippery slope to populist hell, Radio 4 has never offered a richer mix of food for the mind.  ‘Start the Week’ recently celebrated its 40^th anniversary, and it was startling to appreciate the stark contrast between the lightweight piece of fluff that Richard Baker used to present, and the serious forum for intelligent debate over which Andrew Marr now presides.  Plus, the uncompromisingly intellectual ‘In Our Time’ was (and may still be), the BBC’s most downloaded podcast programme.  Outside the immediate field of BBC Radio, I have a particular fondess for the podcast series ‘Philosophy Bites’ which, without the advantage of broadcast promotion, long ago achieved its millionth download.

Last week we were among a packed audience at Eden Court who gave a spontaneous and richly-deserved standing ovation to the Rambert Dance Company. Eden Court Director Colin Marr has proved that you can build a large and enthusiastic audience even for something as apparently esoteric as contemporary dance, by ensuring that people have the chance to see and experience the very best examples of the medium.   The huge age range of the audience for last week’s performance (including many wildly excited school students) was a telling demonstration that quality needn’t be equated with elitism.

And what about books? We’re just coming up to World Book Day, Liz Lochhead’s appointment as Scotland’s Makar drew huge press attention,  and the Highlands and Islands are now home to an ever growing plethora of book and writing festivals.  Judith and her book group are currently reading Hilary Mantel’s ‘Wolf Hall’.  Now this is definitely one of the more challenging of recent Man Booker prizewinenrs—very long, elliptic, and requiring a fair amount of prior knowledge of Tudor power politics.  But its popularity with the reading public seems to have endured far beyond the normal 15 minutes of fame allotted to the average Man Booker winner.

Of course, you may incline more to the ‘glass half empty’ school of thought, and no doubt you could counter every one of my positive examples with a negative counterpart every bit as depressing as the downward slide of Radio 3.  And it may be that, once this current tide of optimism has washed over me, my natural grumpiness will kick in, and I’ll totally agree with you.  But for now, I’d like to think that—to steal the title of another of this year’s Best Picture nominees –The Kids are All Right.