Chloë Thomson

Chloë Thomson’s got a pretty interesting filmography, honestly. You might’ve seen her name pop up if you’re into movies that aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty. Take Green Zone (2010), for example—it’s not your average war flick. Set right in the chaos of post-invasion Baghdad, the story follows a U.S. Army officer as he hunts for those infamous WMDs everyone kept talking about. Spoiler: things get messy, fast. You get this wild tangle of politics, action, and desperation, all shot in a jittery, on-the-ground style that almost makes you need a seatbelt. Now, Radio Rock (2009)—or The Boat That Rocked if you’re from across the pond—swaps bullets for groovy tunes. It’s all about this ragtag group of DJs running a pirate radio station from a ship in the North Sea (because the BBC back then? Lame and uptight). It’s pure British comedy, packed with rebels, rock ’n’ roll, and just enough heart to keep you rooting for these oddballs as they party, prank, and push back against the establishment. Then there’s Damascus Cover (2017), which jumps into the shadowy world of espionage. Set in the Middle East, it’s got double-crosses, secret identities, and a spy trying to pull off “one last job.” It’s the kind of thriller that keeps you guessing who’s actually got the upper hand, with plenty of tension and a few gut-punch twists along the way. Thomson’s work ties all these stories together with a style that’s never boring—she keeps you locked in, whether it’s war, waves, or whispers in the dark.