According to the French writer and philosopher Albert Camus, the purpose of art is not to change the world or humanity, because it has neither sufficient virtue nor sufficient wisdom. Perhaps, however, its task is to serve the few values without which a changing world becomes inhospitable and a new type of human loses respect.

Films explore inner and outer worlds. They make imbalances, beauty, fractures, tensions, contradictions, contrasts and transformations palpable. They reveal the success or failure of experiences, ideas and actions.

Good stories draw their strength from the activities of distinctive characters, from powerful emotions, from reflected identities and from the provision of context and universal values – among other things.

If a film manages to engage an audience in the events it depicts, the story itself and the fortunes of its central protagonists, it has fulfilled its purpose – because it has expanded our horizons.

Sometimes the story told in moving images is a product of fantasy, and sometimes it is inspired by reality. Some stories suddenly occur to someone, while others have to be sought out or consciously developed using the power of imagination. Some come easy, others are hard work. Many are variations of other stories, while some are so eccentric that their genesis appears unlikely or even impossible. And, occasionally, there are stories that are not found but that find you.

As soon as the idea is born, at the very beginning of the process, pictures, words and emotions appear. Some are one's own, some are those of others. This is a realisation that the Irish author Colum MacCann has summarised as follows: "We get our voices from the voices of others. Read promiscuously. Imitate, copy, become your own voice."

A film that is born from such stories must, we believe, eventually become its own, different, new story.

But the individual voices may still be heard.