Age: 64
male
Matthew Broderick (born March 21, 1962) is an American stage and screen actor. Broderick began acting in off-Broadway productions in the early 1980s, soon after landing a role in Neil Simon's Brighton Beach Memoirs, for which he won a Tony Award. His first screen role was in Max Dugan Returns (1983), also penned by Neil Simon. His breakout role came the same year for his role as a young hacker in WarGames. Later Broderick starred in the hit film Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986), making him a household name. Subsequent notable films include Glory (1989), The Lion King (1994), The Cable Guy (1996), Godzilla (1998), and Election (1999). Broderick also continued acting on Broadway, including several musicals. He won a second Tony Award in 1995 for his performance in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying and a third nomination in 2001 for The Producers. In 1985 while on vacation in Ireland with his then-girlfriend Jennifer Grey, Broderick was involved in a head on collision that killed two locals. He was deemed at fault and faced up to five years in prison on the charge of causing death by dangerous driving, but was convicted of a lesser charge and fined £100. Broderick has been married to actress Sarah Jessica Parker since 1997, and the couple have three children.
Matthew Broderick
Other Soldier 1
for Other Soldier 1 in Dulce Et Decorum Est
Suggested by therealdirector
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs, And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots, But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots Of gas-shells dropping softly behind. Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time, But someone still was yelling out and stumbling And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.— Dim through the misty panes and thick green light, As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. In all my dreams before my helpless sight, He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace Behind the wagon that we flung him in, And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin; If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,— My friend, you would not tell with such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory, The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.
