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Whoopi Goldberg Filmography
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Caryn Elaine Johnson, better known by her stage name of
Whoopi Goldberg (born November 13, 1955), is a well-known movie actress, comedian, and singer. She was born in New York, New York.
After success as a stand up comedian in the San Francisco Bay Area, Goldberg created a one woman show in 1983 called The Spook Show. This show caught the attention of
Mike Nichols who produced a one-woman show for Goldberg on Broadway, called simply
Whoopi Goldberg, which ran from October 24, 1984 to March 10, 1985 for a total of 156 performances.
Goldberg began her film career by playing the character of Celie in the
Steven Spielberg directed movie adaption of the award-winning novel The Color Purple by Alice Walker. This performance garnered her an Oscar nomination for best actress in 1986. She followed up this performance with a sell-out, highly acclaimed one-woman show on Broadway. The majority of the films she made in the 1980s featured her in tough-woman comedic roles (Burglar
, Fatal Beauty
, Jumpin' Jack Flash
), though she regularly balanced them out by performing in family-oriented films (Clara's Heart).
In danger of fading from public acclaim, she revitalized her career in the role of a fake "spiritualist" who manages to actually make contact with the dead in the tear-jerker Ghost, for which she won her first Oscar award for best supporting actress. She cemented her status as a legendary comedic actress in 1992 as a lounge singer who is hidden in a convent (and consequently revitalises their choir) in Sister Act. She had a recurring role on ' as Guinan, which she also reprised in two of the Star Trek feature films.
Goldberg has appeared in 149 films as of October 2002. She has received two Oscar nominations and won one. She has received five Daytime Emmy nominations, winning one. She has received five Emmy nominations. She has received three Golden Globe nominations, winning two. She has won three People's Choice Awards. In 1999 she received the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation Vanguard Award for her continued work in supporting the gay and lesbian community. She has been nominated for five American Comedy Awards with two wins. In 2001 she won the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor.She also hosted the Oscars in 1994, 1996, 1999 and 2002.
Goldberg was paired with
Jean Stapleton in the CBS sitcom Bagdad Café (with a plot differing from the 1987 movie in several respects), which lasted two seasons (1990-1991). She hosted a syndicated talk show (
The Whoopi Goldberg Show) in 1992-1993. She also starred in the sitcom, Whoopi, which began broadcasting in fall 2003 on NBC. Whoopi starred as Mavis Rae, the owner of a small New York Hotel (called the Le Mont Hotel). An ex-singer in a girl group, Mavis was as much of a diva running the hotel as she was in the group’s glory days. The sitcom was cancelled due to low ratings in May 2004.
In July 2004, Slim-Fast, a popular diet shake, dropped Goldberg from its advertisements in response to popular opposition to statements Goldberg made at a "John Kerry for President" rally in which Goldberg repeatedly referred to President George W. Bush and Vice President Dick Cheney by pointing to her genital region.
In August 2004, Goldberg announced that she would be reviving her one-woman show on Broadway at the Lyceum Theatre.
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EuropeRachel Cooke interviews Debra Winger
When I meet Debra Winger, I have not yet seen Rachel Getting Married, a new film in which she has a small part. But I have seen a trailer for it, which appeared before me suddenly and unexpectedly in a New York cinema on the Upper East Side while I was numbly waiting for a Woody Allen picture to come on. And even in this trailer, in which Winger is on screen for approximately five seconds, there is something electrifying about her presence. I mean this very seriously. "Is that Debra Winger?" you think. And then: "It is. It's Debra Winger." In the scenes that follow - the action takes place at a wedding party - you scan every crowd for another glimpse of her: the woman who, as the great critic Pauline Kael once put it, was "a major reason to go on seeing movies in the 1980s". But no, that's your lot. Instead, you must gaze on the pale and rather less interesting face of Anne Princess Diaries Hathaway, the film's lead. Winger's part really is small. Too small. So small, in fact, that in the titles, as on the billboards, she gets a special patronising "and" before her name ("starring X, Y, Z and ... Debra Winger"). So: Debra Winger, the supremely fearless and convincing actor and triple Oscar nominee who disappeared from the big screen some time in the mid 1990s, is back. Sort of. Only it is not quite as simple as this, of course. For one thing, contrary to what you might have read, she never stopped working, not entirely. For another, her "return", courtesy of Jonathan Demme, the director of Rachel Getting Married, who screwed up all his courage and asked her to take on the role of matriarch believing that she would probably turn it down, has not yet turned into an all-singing, all-dancing career renaissance. Rachel Getting Married has won Winger rave reviews - "devastating"; "magnificent"; "too long between films" - for a part you could miss completely should you succumb to a sudden urge for popcorn. Yet it has not, so far, led to any more work. "No, I don't have another job lined up," she says, lightly. "But, you know, hope springs eternal." She jokes that the part of Abby, who is the mother of Kym, the recovering drug addict played by Hathaway in a somewhat full-throttle bid for artistic street credibility, is about "as long as an audition tape" - and that in a new economic climate in which, perhaps, more serious parts will get written, she must now be in a good position to land them. "As you know, I've long been ambivalent about the whole movie star thing. But that doesn't mean that I wouldn't like to, uh ... work."Winger and I meet for lunch in the lobby bar of the Algonquin Hotel - her choice. She used to be famously difficult in interviews, furious and truculent, but today she is neither. Sure, I can see that she is probably still a tricky sort of a human being, but then, aren't all the best people? Physically compact, like a particularly athletic teenager, she ticks with energy and opinion, like a bomb. She also looks a decade younger than her 53 years; an achievement that is mostly down to her genes, I guess, but which is also testament to the grand irony of the plastic surgery culture: unlike virtually all her contemporaries, she has left her face - the most puckish and determined face in movies - alone, and so - ha! - looks more youthful than any of them. She arrives on foot, having travelled into New York from her home in the suburbs on the train and, tidily installed in her seat, orders a gin and tonic, followed by three courses, and fully caffeinated coffee. Jeez. No wonder she was never keen on the whole "movie star thing". I sit beside her, and once I've calmed down a bit - I was a giant fan of hers when I was a teenager, and the Joe Cocker theme from An Officer and a Gentleman is playing on a loop in my head - all I can think is that Kate Winslet is in for a rude awakening at some point in the not too distant future. If Debra Winger can't get a decent role lined up, what hope is there for anyone? "Yeah, those boiled faces!" she says, when I bring up the tricky subject of her female colleagues' waxwork skin. "Scary. They go in [to see their doctors] saying: make me look like myself - or like myself 20 years ago. But you know, I have a movie out now and I can't bear to watch it. I see myself up there, and it's not normal to scrutinise your own face on a screen this big; it's like opening a vein. So I do have some compassion for Nicole Kidman, or whoever, who has obviously looked at her face and sort of dissected it, like it's a thing. I don't want to be the poster child for wrinkles, and that's what they make you if you speak out about that whole culture. So I don't, mostly. But it has gotten so ridiculous as a job. [At the film festivals] the celebrities are dragging their movies in, going 'look at this!' instead of the movie being the thing, and they're just there to support it. It's a case of: 'Look at my dress, at my hair, at my face and ... oh, by the way, there's a movie here, too!' I have this character in my head. She keeps appearing places: on trains, in the city, on the highway. I see her out there. She is heroic, but not like any hero we've ever seen. Society makes women of a certain age invisible. It's convenient. Remember our mothers? How inconvenient they were to us? It's like that, on a grand scale. In the early part of my life I carried the flame for fiery women: perky women who were not dumb. And now I feel like I could be the woman to play this role: the invisible woman." Only no one is writing these kinds of parts. "Roles for women. There aren't any. They've been saying that since the 1920s, and it's true. [My theory is that] women don't write enough. Because who do they expect to write these roles? Men?"Winger became famous at the age of 25, when she landed a starring role in Urban Cowboy opposite John Travolta. In 1982 she was nominated for an Oscar for her role in An Officer and a Gentleman opposite Richard Gere; in 1983 for Terms of Endearment with Jack Nicholson; and in 1993 for Shadowlands, co-starring Anthony Hopkins. Then, in 1995, when she was 40, she walked away. She pretty much stopped reading scripts. She just couldn't - or didn't want - to do it any more. She had a late second baby, and taught at Harvard University on a course called the Literature of Social Reflection, and was generally a lot happier than she had been in Hollywood. "I used to cry on my way to work, I was so happy," she says. "I had this baby, I did a play, I rode my bike through Cambridge." Then, in 2001, she started film work again, and later appeared in, among other things, Sometimes in April, an acclaimed HBO movie about the Rwandan genocide. "So that's the thing. When people say: 'You're a has-been,' oh my god - it just doesn't resonate with me." The relief she felt at not having to spend two hours a day, every day, in make-up did not register with journalists. "It's inconceivable to some people that that wouldn't be the sexiest thing to do in the whole world: to be a movie star, and make money, and be pampered, and whatever." Nor could they grasp the fact that her decision - her so-called decision - to leave Hollywood had been an organic thing, rather than a carefully planned protest. "I can still get a little surly about that, but then I think: what do I care about their opinion?" Her cause, however, was not helped by Rosanna Arquette who, in 2001, made a documentary about what Hollywood does to older women, and called it Searching for Debra Winger. She has never seen it. "I was interviewed for it when it was called something else, and I said to Rosanna at the time, this is your question. I had no idea what she planned on calling the film, and she made me the poster child for something I was not talking about. I didn't give a shit [about what Hollywood was going to do to me]. I was just tired of it." Fame, she thinks, is a bit like chemotherapy. "It's going to do you some good, but it's poison and you can't live on it for ever. You have to take your blood level every once in a while. You have to check it out. For me, it took too much time, and too much energy." Only now, she would like a decent role or two, and ... So Arquette had a point; she would never deny that. It's just that she doesn't like the idea of being a spokeswoman for age discrimination any more than she once liked the idea of parading herself on the red carpet. Why does film acting have to be so all or nothing? Oh, well. It's not like she isn't busy. There is her farm, in upstate New York, which she and her husband, fellow actor Arliss Howard, run pretty much single-handed. "I don't like other people taking care of my things," she says. "It's embarrassing." There is politics: she campaigned furiously for Barack Obama, flying to Florida to persuade Jewish voters that their fears about him were unfounded, and taking the train to Virginia the weekend before the vote in a last-minute panic that it could still somehow be lost. "I still remember where I was when the supreme court decision came back four years ago," she says. "I stared at the radio, and I couldn't believe it. I felt such sorrow and such shame. We never believed that Bush would get re-elected, and we were asleep." She wasn't going to let that happen again.Finally, there is her writing. Winger, having scribbled in her notebooks in secret for about the past 10 years, has recently published a book, Undiscovered. How to describe it? Well, put it this way: anyone hoping for the dish on Gere and John Malkovich, the co-stars she famously loathed when she worked with them, is going to be disappointed. The book is a collection of brief essays and poems with illustrations of doors and windows by her friend, the famous tightrope walker Philippe Petit. "I'm allergic to chapters," she says. "They give me hives. I wanted doors and portals to illustrate the idea of transformations. I showed Philippe the old doors I collect - I keep them in my barn - and he took out his journal, and it was filled with drawings of doors. So that was it." He gave her a different drawing of a door or gate to go at the start of every ... er, chapter (I can't think of a better word). What must have seemed at first to her publisher like a dream - a book by Debra Winger, no ghost writer required - quickly turned into a nightmare. She wouldn't put her face on the cover (she is photographed, with one of her doors, from behind, her curly hair the only visible Winger feature), nor was she going to do the rounds of talk shows to publicise it. "Ha. I wanted to put it out under a pseudonym, but they said: are you fucking nuts? I tried going on The View [an ABC show presented by Barbara Walters and Whoopi Goldberg], and the last time I experienced anything like that was when I was a child, and I got caught in a rip tide, and the lifeguard was yelling 'just relax!' Everyone's talking on top of each other, and it's humiliating, and I have to suffer the whole 'where have you been?' thing - as if the person asking me has been at the centre of the universe all this time, and I just haven't checked in." The upside of all this, however, has been that the book has mostly sold on word of mouth, a fact that pleases her hugely. "It's discovered," she says. "No pun intended. People connect with it; they don't just buy it because of me. The other day, Augusten Burroughs [US memoirist extraordinaire] wrote about it on his website. Amazing. I don't even know him." (This is what he wrote: "A memoir, written by Debra Winger. ALL HAIL THE CORN GOD. I read the first page and realised: Oh, she's a writer. An actual writer.")The book consists mostly of what she calls "universal truths, and some of my truths". Along the way, however, there are glances - sidelong but beady - at her Jewish upbringing (she was born in Ohio, to an Orthodox family); at the accident that changed her life (as a young woman, working a vacation job at a California amusement park, she fell off the back of a truck while wearing a troll costume, suffered a cerebral haemorrhage and was left blind for 10 months); and her early years in Hollywood (there is a story about a publicity tour to Germany with Jack Nicholson; en route, he teased her about how she, a Jew, would be treated there. When they arrived at the hotel, Nicholson called her from his room, and said: "Bucky? [his nickname for her]. Is your radiator making a hissing sound?"). The accident, in particular, is presented as a turning point, for it was while she was in hospital that she determined to be an actor. So perhaps, in some way, it was meant: "I needed that shock to the body. I needed to break completely with the ordinary life I was afraid of." But the months in hospital were so bleak (initially, she was told she might never see again) that they left her feeling suicidal. "A plan was concocted in my somewhat swollen head... I practised. I would hoist myself out of the bed with the use of the overhead bar. I would count the steps to the door, walk out on the balcony, and jump." Luckily, a miscalculation meant that Winger delivered herself, not into oblivion, but "right to the nursing station". This was the beginning of her recovery. Of her relationships, she writes little - though Arliss has a starring role rushing out to chase a bear from the farm stark naked. Besides him, there have been two other significant men in her life: Bob Kerrey, a former senator and governor of Nebraska, whom she met while filming Terms of Endearment in the state, and actor Timothy Hutton, to whom she was married for four years in the 1980s, and who is the father of her older son, Noah. Kerrey, who lost part of a lower leg in Vietnam, is supposed to have once made the joke: "What can I say - she swept me off my foot," and by all accounts, they were both madly in love. But their lives were too different; how could she ever have been a political wife? "I tried the pillbox hat for a while," she has said. "But I couldn't." Hutton she fell in love with while watching him receive his best supporting actor Oscar for Ordinary People. But it didn't last. Then there is Howard, whom she met on the set of Wilder Napalm in 1993 (they have a son, Babe; she also has a stepson). "A good marriage is different to a happy marriage. Happy is a tough word. But I did marry... well! The fact is that neither one of us walked away thinking, 'This is too hard' - and it was never not hard." When she married Hutton, she wore a white dress. "That ended up being the thing that lasted longest." Later, on the set of Wilder Napalm, she wore that old white dress for a wedding still that was needed. "He [Arliss] put his hand on the small of my back, and we both remember thinking: 'Oh, shit.' It was electrifying. I still have that dress - that hoky dress - for that reason."People assume that cynics can't also be optimists. Wrong. She is both. However hard she tries to sound world-weary (and let's face it, she has just the right voice for sassy; it's like the expensive crunch of flashy wheels on gravel), Winger's innate optimism always pokes through. And vice versa. I ask her if she is still as thrilled about Obama's victory now as she was on election night, and she shouts: "Oh, come on! That's passed already. It's like childbirth. An unbelievable high, a miracle, anything's possible, but then you realise that you actually have to raise it. We're in the home-from-the-hospital phase now." But then, in the next sentence, she's telling me how bracing she is finding the scary new world order. "There's a relief in the falling apart, isn't there? I used to walk up Madison Avenue, and girls really were buying $1,500 purses just because Madonna had one. The purse thing. It had gotten insane. But then, the world is insane. I can't begin to fathom other people. All I can do is keep my own bullshit meter intact. You have to make a concerted effort to keep yourself alive, to be able to feel pain, to stop yourself from getting distanced from things by technology. Some 250,000 protestors walked up Broadway to protest the war in Iraq, and the next day it wasn't in the papers. But will that stop me from marching next time? No, I will be counted." So far as her career goes, it's the same deal. She knows the depressing, sexist score, but she also has a hunch that something will turn up: "some role where I can dig in a little deeper". Perhaps this is because she knows that she is missed. It's just like Augusten Burroughs said: "We want to see her in rich, complex roles. We want to see her in T-bone steak roles." And I second that. Enough with the side orders.? Undiscovered by Debra Winger is published by Simon and Schuster, £14.99Debra's days: A lifeEarly life1955 Born Mary Debra Winger in Ohio on 16 May. As a young woman, she suffered a cerebral haemorrhage after falling off a truck, leaving her partially paralysed and blind for 10 months. Career1976 Made her film debut in critically reviled comedy Slumber Party '571980 Landed her first starring role, opposite John Travolta in Urban Cowboy; nominated for a Bafta.1982 Won an Oscar nomination for her performance alongside Richard Gere in An Officer and a Gentleman.She would receive two more for Terms of Endearment and Shadowlands1995 Took up a post at Harvard, teaching literature of social reflection. 2001 Appeared in Big Bad Love, directed by her husband Arliss Howard.Personal lifeMarried twice: first to actor Timothy Hutton from 1986 to 1990, then to Howard in 1996. She has two sons and a stepson.guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2008 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds
Published: Sun, 28 Dec 2008 00:07:56 GMT - Source: Guardian.Co.Uk - Read the articleEuropeObituary: Robert Mulligan
Between his forceful debut, Fear Strikes Out (1957), and his enchanting final work, The Man in the Moon (1991), the director Robert Mulligan, who has died aged 83 of heart disease, made other equally memorable movies. However, some dross, several commercial failures and a battle with alcohol marginalised him, and the quantity and quality of his output never quite lived up to its early promise.Mulligan was one of the new wave of American moviemakers who emerged from the heyday of postwar television, enjoying initial acclaim but erratic subsequent careers. Together with Sidney Lumet, Martin Ritt, John Frankenheimer and others, he maintained an uneasy balance between commercialism and personal works, often missing out on critical attention. Still, few critics could deny the integrity of To Kill a Mockingbird (1962), the power of Baby the Rain Must Fall (1965) or dispute the popular success of Summer of '42 (1971) or Mulligan's sensitive understanding of human relationships. His technique was understated and secure and his fine work with actors ensured that many - Gregory Peck, Tony Curtis and Steve McQueen included - returned to work with him.Born in New York city to a policeman father, Mulligan described his upbringing as "Bronx Irish". His brother was the actor Richard Mulligan, who played Burt Campbell in the US sitcom Soap. Robert intended to be a priest until the second world war interrupted his studies and he found himself in the marines, emerging, aged 20, into a changed world with new-found ambitions. He joined the New York Times as a messenger and moved to CBS in a similar, lowly capacity. Within three years, he had graduated to direction and worked on television series including Suspense, The Alcoa Hour and The Philco Television Playhouse. Within a decade he had directed hundreds of shows and married actress Jane Lee Sutherland. "Nobody knew what they were doing," he said of television work. "It was the ones with the cool heads who succeeded."Inevitably, Hollywood beckoned, so Mulligan and producer Alan Pakula made their debuts with Fear Strikes Out. This intense account of the career - and mental disintegration - of Jimmy Piersall, of the Boston Red Sox, made a star of the young Anthony Perkins and gained Mulligan outstanding reviews.For a while, he returned to television, working on the literary adaptations that proliferated in the 1950s. Starry versions of Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities and Thornton Wilder's The Bridge of San Luis Rey (both 1958) won acclaim. Somerset Maugham's The Moon and Sixpence (1959) gained Laurence Olivier an Emmy. After directing the first screen version of Billy Budd, with Don Murray in the lead role, Mulligan moved back into cinema.During the 1960s he directed 10 films, half of them produced by Pakula. Their successful collaboration ended with the western The Stalking Moon (1969), after which Pakula, a galvanising force in their relationship, turned to direction. Mulligan made only nine more movies - few of note - during the second half of his career.His belated follow-up to Fear Strikes Out starred Curtis in an altogether lighter work, The Rat Race. Based on a play by Garson Kanin, it followed the affair between a musician and a dancer. Far more intriguing was The Great Imposter (also 1960), in which Curtis played the real-life Ferdinand Demara who, in the 1950s, had successfully impersonated a teacher, a prison warden, a monk and, incredibly, a surgeon.After this dark comedy, Mulligan's duo of films with Rock Hudson helped neither career. Come September (1961) was a mild romantic comedy and The Spiral Road (1962) an overlong religio-medical drama. It allowed Mulligan the odd distinction of directing his dullest and finest films within a year.To Kill a Mockingbird reunited him with Pakula and proved one of those happy circumstances where every facet of a movie blends seamlessly. Few 60s films have worn as well as this depiction (based on Harper Lee's evocative novel) of a southern childhood and bigotry. The film was nominated for eight Academy awards, including best picture, and won three: best actor (Peck), screenplay (Horton Foote) and art direction (Alexander Golitzen, Henry Bumstead and Oliver Emert). Mulligan, although nominated for best director, lost out to David Lean for Lawrence of Arabia, which also won best film. It was followed by a gritty romance, Love With the Proper Stranger (1963), and - again with McQueen - the remarkable Baby the Rain Must Fall. This bleak portrait of a man whose abusive childhood has led to problems in later life gave McQueen one of his greatest roles. Mulligan had proved himself adept at confrontational dramas, but he was not flamboyant enough to handle Inside Daisy Clover (1965), an exposé of Hollywood and the pressures of stardom, based on Gavin Lambert's scabrous novel. Up the Down Staircase (1967) about a dedicated teacher in New York suited him better and proved a hit.His choice of a chamber western, The Stalking Moon (1968), reunited him with Peck. Shot with minimal dialogue, it concentrated on the relationship between an army scout, a woman and the half-breed son he is protecting from the boy's Apache father. A sombre, interior work, it failed to reach the audience it deserved.The Pursuit of Happiness (1971), a study of legal injustice, attempted to make a difficult subject accessible to audiences. They rejected it. However, the same year, Mulligan made Summer of '42 - a love story between a virginal teenager and a 22-year-old woman whose husband is away at war. Mulligan narrated the sentimental movie and it proved a phenomenal hit. In Britain it was launched with an National Film Theatre preview and a retrospective of his films, where Mulligan proved a disarming guest. A couple of years later he directed an uncharacteristic work The Other, adapted by actor Tom Tryon from his own novel - one of the dark tales of possession then much in vogue. This enjoyed more success that The Nickel Ride (1974), which disappeared after showing in competition at the Cannes film festival. He probably identified with Bloodbrothers (1978), in which Richard Gere played the sensitive son of a Bronx family who wants to work with children but has his ambitions frustrated. However, it failed commercially and he next directed a safe vehicle, Same Time, Next Year, based on a stage hit.There was a long gap before the tame Kiss Me Goodbye (1982) and an even longer one before his penultimate movie, Clara's Heart (1988). Its warmth and compassion - qualities in short supply in Hollywood at the time - were typical of Mulligan, but despite Whoopi Goldberg's portrayal of the Jamaican maid who befriends the young son of a well-off family and Neil Patrick Harris's memorable performance as the troubled boy, the film received little attention.Critically, Man in the Moon fared better, and was notable for the appearance of Reese Witherspoon in her film debut, but its then unfashionable concern with young love, small-town life and troubled emotions failed to attract an audience. It was the swansong of a liberal and sympathetic director who deserved more attention. In a 1991 article in the Dallas Morning Herald looking back over his film career, Mulligan reflected that many of his films deal with the emotional highs and lows experienced by children and adolescents when confronting traumatic circumstances. "Ordinarily they say that cliche, a 'coming-of-age movie', and I reject that term," he said. "I think it's 'coming to life'. I felt, when I looked back on it, that I really didn't know what life was about until I was somewhere in my teens, when you become aware that sooner or later you're going to have to walk out the front door. Mother and father are not going to be there, you're not going to be protected. All those things become exciting and terrifying at the same time."Mulligan is survived by his wife of 37 years, Sandy, three children from a previous marriage, Kevin, Beth and Christopher, two grandchildren and a brother, James.? Robert Mulligan, film director, born 23 August 1925; died 20 December 2008United Statesguardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2008 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds
Published: Tue, 23 Dec 2008 00:05:58 GMT - Source: Guardian.Co.Uk - Read the articleLiteratureMuppet Star Hams It Up
A Muppets Christmas: Letters to Santa airs Dec. 17 on NBC, but when SCI FI Wire asked for an interview with one of the stars--Whoopi Goldberg, Nathan Lane or New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg--who do we get?Not Richard Griffiths or Uma Thurman or supermodel Petra Nemcova. We get Miss Piggy.
Published: Thu, 11 Dec 2008 05:00:00 GMT - Source: Scifi.Com - Read the article
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