The Great Man 1956

Joe Harris, José Ferrer, is a popular local radio news reporter who covers Broadway with a sharp, wry edge. The network’s brightest star, Herb Fuller, has built a larger-than-life persona, but behind the shine lies a complex mix of ego, routine, and secrets. When Fuller dies in an auto accident, Philip Carleton, the president of the Amalgamated Broadcasting Network, tasks Harris with producing a monumental memorial: a public viewing of Fuller’s coffin followed by a commemorative show that gathers the Fuller circle—the on-air family and the colleagues who knew him best. Carleton hints at a potential reward for success: Harris could become Fuller’s replacement.

Assisted by the network’s public relations man, Nick Cellentano, Harris notices odd, almost bored remarks at the public viewing from people who seem to attend more out of habit than reverence. The tangle of attitudes around Fuller’s death intrigues him, and he’s drawn deeper into the mystery as he meets Sid Moore, Fuller’s longtime producer. Moore offers his help while recognizing that Harris is now the favorite to inherit Fuller’s seat, and he remains keenly aware of how to shape the narrative to protect his own influence. Harris is not alone in this pursuit; with the support of his secretary Ginny, Joanne Gilbert, he begins to dig beneath the surface.

What Harris uncovers is a portrait of a man who wore a brilliant public mask while indulging in alcohol-driven excesses and a history of ethical compromises. Fuller’s darker side emerges: a pattern of exploitation and bold, reckless behavior that fueled his rise. Through interviews and careful scrutiny, Harris learns about Fuller’s relationship with Carol Larson, the alcoholic singer on his program, whose ties to the show reveal conflicts of interest that ripple through the broadcasts. The investigation widens further as Harris discovers Fuller’s connections with various song publishers whose works were regularly featured on Fuller’s program, suggesting a web of influence behind the studio’s glamorous veneer.

The story of Fuller’s ascent is echoed by Paul Beaseley, owner of a small Christian radio station in New England, who initially hired Fuller after being impressed by his inspirational poetry. Beaseley’s perspective adds a layer of moral complexity, especially as Harris learns more about Fuller’s personal contradictions and the way his star status conflicted with the very principles Beaseley valued. The investigation also brings into focus Fuller’s on-stage collaborator Eddie Brand, the bandleader played by Russ Morgan, who dutifully records a deliberately crafted, seemingly sincere sound bite about Fuller—an emblem of the manufactured warmth that defined Fuller’s image.

As Harris compiles the material into a script, Carleton privately warns him about Sid Moore’s duplicitous nature too. Carleton warns that Moore intends to spin Harris’s chances of becoming Fuller’s successor in a way that could force a hostile contract situation. The network’s strategy is clear: either Harris signs a release that keeps him in line, or the network will pivot away from him. The stakes are high, and Harris must decide how to balance loyalty to the truth with the pressure to protect his own career.

With the memorial broadcast looming, Harris faces a moral dilemma: should he echo the public’s fond memory of Fuller—the warm, entertaining figure people loved—or strip away the polished surface to reveal the phony beneath the image? He ultimately chooses honesty, discarding his prepared script to tell a more complete, unvarnished story about Fuller. As Carleton and Moore listen in, Moore realizes the value of Harris’s candor, tearing up the contract in a gesture that signals a shift in power. Yet Carleton refuses to stop the broadcast, recognizing that the public may come to see Harris as a man of principle and integrity, just as Harris’s honesty could be marketed with the same deftness once reserved for Fuller’s carefully crafted persona.

In the end, the program becomes less a tribute to a beloved radio personality and more a revealing examination of reality behind the glitter. Harris’s decision to foreground truth over gloss redefines his own career trajectory, while Carleton exposure to Harris’s courage demonstrates that the network can rebrand authenticity just as effectively as it built a legend around Fuller. The story closes on the idea that public memory is malleable, but it also recognizes the enduring value of conscience—how telling the truth, even when it unsettles an audience, can affirm a journalist’s true vocation.