The timing is perfect. On this upcoming, most American of holidays, you can stuff yourself at Thanksgiving dinner, fall into a deep, tryptophan-induced sleep, and then wake up, have another slice of pie, and settle in to watch “Beverly Sills: Made in America” on PBS.

The piece definitely has a relaxed, dressed-down feel. Serious opera fans will be disappointed that this 90-minute program includes not even one aria presented in its entirety, but more casual watchers — the rather obvious target audience — may appreciate the jump-cutting that makes it possible to enjoy many more film and video clips. Ever her own hagiographer, Ms. Sills lays on the “walking barefoot through the snow to go to school” routine a bit thick, but who ever said that PBS lets truth get in the way of a good story?

In fact, if a viewer had never heard of Beverly Sills before seeing this program, he or she might easily come to the conclusion that opera was simply a rather obsessive hobby for Ms. Sills, something along the lines of Vincent Price and his art collection or Paul Newman and his racing cars. There are roughly an equal number of appearances of Ms. Sills at the opera house as there are on such bastions of high culture as “The Dean Martin Show.”

Belle Silverman began her professional singing and acting career at age 4, appearing on such radio shows as “Major Bowes’ Amateur Hour” and “Our Gal Sunday.” “Made in America” chronicles her rise as an entertainer on the small screen with scenes from television evenings starring Merv Griffin, Dinah Shore, Lily Tomlin, and Johnny Carson. The American connection is emphasized not just in an excerpt from Douglas Moore’s “The Ballad of Baby Doe,” but also with a country-and-western routine introduced by Fozzie Bear of the Muppets. This juxtaposition sometimes exposes the chink in Ms. Sills’s armor. When she sings a duet at the Metropolitan Opera in the late 1970s, her rather harsh, angular soprano sounds quite cold next to the warm, dulcet tones of the Broadway savvy Carol Burnett. My own eureka moment came during this scene, upon learning that when Ms. Sills sang at the New York State Theater and Ms. Burnett in both London and New York, neither required an amplification system.

Of course, the program offers lots of opera as well, including scenes of Bubbles as Manon, Violetta, Rosina, Baby Doe, and one of her enduring signature characters, Queen Elizabeth I in Donizetti’s Roberto Devereux. She jokes in an interview that it used to take much longer to apply the makeup for the 60-year-old Elizabeth than for the 16-year-old Manon, but now the reverse was true.

There is also footage of Ms. Sills in duet with Marilyn Horne. These two women have one glowing accomplishment in common. Each virtually singlehandedly resurrected a different part of the repertoire, in Ms. Sills’s case the “three queens” of Donizetti — Elisabetta, Anna Bolena, and Maria Stuarda. Had she never done anything else, Beverly Sills would be deservedly famous for this significant contribution to the art of bel canto singing, not the least of which was an elevation of the acting side of the performer’s craft.

Good acting is so rare in opera that its utilization is often simply ignored. This program captures two of Ms. Sills’s best efforts in the craft. Admittedly channeling Bette Davis, Ms. Sills’s Elizabeth is intensely moving, almost painful to watch. As Manon, she clutches that “petite table” as if it were her own wounded child. A great voice can carry the day, but I prefer a superb actress every time, hence my fanaticism for Maria Callas and, in our own time, for Anna Netrebko.

Still, by her own admission, Ms. Sills really excelled as a world-class talker. Several TV clips show her holding her own with the likes of Dick Cavett and Mike Wallace, and ascending to the Imperial Throne itself as host of “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson” in Carson’s absence. This gift of gab is not just gratuitous. Ms. Sills reinvented herself to become a dynamic musical executive as well. Say what you will about the New York City Opera, but don’t you dare say it in front of Ms. Sills. She is an absolute lioness on the subject. Whenever that golden day comes and the company moves into a decent acoustical venue, they jolly well better name the place the Beverly Sills Auditorium.