by Tim Gordon
Sunday Best: The Untold Story of Ed Sullivan is an illuminating and heartfelt documentary that reframes one of television’s most iconic figures, not just as the stiff, stone-faced host who famously “really big shew’d” his way into pop culture, but as a quiet revolutionary who reshaped American entertainment and, by extension, American culture.
Directed by the late Sacha Jenkins, who tragically passed away before the film’s release, the documentary serves as both a love letter and an excavation of Sullivan’s underappreciated legacy as a champion of racial equality on the small screen. While many remember The Ed Sullivan Show for launching The Beatles into U.S. superstardom or for the moment Elvis Presley’s swiveling hips scandalized the nation, Sunday Best focuses on Sullivan’s unwavering commitment to booking Black artists at a time when many network executives, and much of white America, weren’t ready to see them.
From the earliest days of his Sunday night variety showcase, Sullivan used his platform to break barriers “one act at a time.” He featured performers from the vaudeville circuit before elevating a new generation of Black stars, Count Basie, Nat King Cole, Marvin Gaye, Diana Ross and The Supremes, The Temptations, James Brown, and dozens more, helping to normalize integrated entertainment for millions of American households. In an era of entrenched segregation and civil rights battles, Sullivan’s stage wasn’t just a launching pad for music legends; it was a quiet act of cultural defiance.
Jenkins and his team mine a treasure trove of archival footage, showing Sullivan’s show as a time capsule of American music and comedy. There are familiar high points: The Beatles’ debut, Elvis’ hip-gyrating cameo, but Sunday Best is at its most powerful when it digs into the moments that changed the industry’s DNA, like when Sullivan ignored racist sponsors and insisted on hosting Black performers, even if it meant losing advertising dollars. His moral compass was clear: prejudice had no place in his theater.
The documentary also balances the myth of Sullivan’s stern, awkward on-air demeanor with glimpses of the man behind the curtain: a former sportswriter turned tastemaker, a promoter with an ear for the next big thing, and someone who believed TV could and should bridge divides.
Jenkins, whose fingerprints were also on documentaries like Bitchin’: The Sound and Fury of Rick James and Of Mics and Men (Wu-Tang Clan), directs with his trademark mix of reverence and edge. He and his team even recreate Sullivan’s voice in narration, a creative swing that brings intimacy and a sense of presence to the storytelling.
By the end, Sunday Best makes a compelling case that Sullivan’s legacy has been undersold in the history books. While his show was ultimately canceled in 1971 after 23 years and over 1,100 episodes featuring more than 10,000 entertainers, Sullivan left behind a foundation that every variety show, from The Tonight Show to Saturday Night Live, still stands on.
Sunday Best is not just a nostalgic trip down memory lane; it’s a reminder that progress sometimes comes not from protest marches or fiery speeches, but from the quiet, stubborn insistence of one man deciding to share the stage.
Grade: B+
