Tell us a bit about your organization and what your specialty is in the film and video space.

Mark Kueffner is a film composer and the founder of Music for Reel, a boutique scoring studio dedicated to crafting emotionally resonant music for picture. His work spans genres including drama, comedy, action, sci-fi, documentary, and horror—always with a focus on supporting the story and elevating the viewer’s experience. Mark’s approach is collaborative, intuitive, and grounded in a deep respect for the filmmaking process.

What is your organization’s ethos and how does it set you apart from industry competitors?

Mark writes music to serve the story. Sometimes it’s bold, sometimes it’s barely there—but it’s always honest. He does not chase perfection; he chases feeling. Mark believes in listening deeply, collaborating generously, and showing up with heart. Every cue is a conversation, every score a shared journey. He is here to support the vision, elevate the emotion, and make the magic feel inevitable.

How can people join or learn more about what you do?

Email: mark@markkueffner.com

Website: https://markkueffner.com

Tell us about your Telly Award winning piece. What’s the story behind it?

Nobody Heals Alone is a documentary that follows two remarkable individuals who have dedicated their lives to supporting veterans in need. From moments of personal crisis to the labyrinth of Veterans Affairs benefits, they offer guidance, compassion, and unwavering commitment. The film sheds light on the emotional and bureaucratic challenges veterans face—and the healing power of human connection.

What are you most proud of about this piece? What was your biggest challenge during production and how did you solve it?

Scoring Nobody Heals Alone was a deeply personal experience. The film contains moments of raw vulnerability and emotional intensity, and I’m proud to have helped elevate those scenes through music. My goal was never to overpower the story, but to support it—to let the score breathe with the characters, and carry the weight of their journey when words fell short.

Do you have any advice to other filmmakers based on your career or your team’s approach to work?

Composing for film isn’t about showing off—it’s about showing up. Stay curious. Stay generous. Learn to listen more than you play. The best scores don’t just sound good—they feel true. You’ll spend hours chasing the right cue, rewriting themes, doubting yourself. That’s part of it. Stay committed. Stay tenacious. And remember: your job is to serve the story, not your ego. When you do that, the magic finds you.

Can you share a behind the scenes story or fun fact about the making of your piece?

While I was scoring Nobody Heals Alone, the director and his wife came up to spend the weekend at our mountain home in North Georgia. The film’s two stars had just relocated from Palm Beach, Florida, and had leased a house sight unseen. Before arriving at our place, the director planned to swing by their new home—but was stopped at a security gate, unable to enter without clearance. So they waited a couple of hours and then headed to our house.

Here’s the twist: when they arrived, they realized they’d come back to the same gate. Turns out, the stars of the film had leased a house right in our neighborhood. None of us had known. It was one of those uncanny moments that made the whole project feel even more connected—like the film had brought us all together in more ways than one.

Tell us about the most memorable response you got from this work.

After I posted about Nobody Heals Alone on Facebook, a veteran in need reached out. He’d seen the film’s message and felt compelled to ask for help. I was able to connect him directly with one of the film’s main subjects—someone who’s devoted their life to supporting veterans. That connection led to real, tangible support. It was a reminder that music and film don’t just tell stories—they can change lives.y Award and several film festivals for the score,

Complete this sentence: ‘Great video storytelling is…’

… the moment you forget you’re watching—and start feeling.