We Need to Talk About That Wormhole Scene in Interstellar

I love this movie. Like, genuinely love it - Hans Zimmer's organ-heavy score still gives me chills, and the docking sequence makes my palms sweat every time. Nolan absolutely knocked it out of the park.

But there's this one scene that bugs me every time.

The Pencil Through Paper Thing

Romilly sits there with a piece of paper, folds it, sticks a pencil through both ends, and proceeds to explain - to Cooper, a former NASA test pilot and astronaut - how wormholes work. Basic wormhole theory. Day one stuff. The kind of thing you'd find in a middle school science textbook or, honestly, any documentary about space that's aired in the last thirty years.

And Cooper just... sits there nodding along like he's hearing this for the first time?

Come on.

Here's What Bothers Me

Cooper isn't some random farmer who stumbled into a spacecraft. Well, okay, technically he is farming corn when we meet him, but that's not his background. This is a guy who flew experimental aircraft and trained as an astronaut. Who presumably spent years studying physics, aerospace engineering, orbital mechanics, and a bunch of other subjects you'd need to master before NASA would let you anywhere near their equipment.

And we're supposed to believe he needs the "imagine a piece of paper" explanation?

I learned about wormhole theory in eighth grade. Maybe earlier, actually - I can't remember if it was a science class or just me reading too many Brian Greene books as a teenager. Point is, this isn't obscure knowledge. Einstein-Rosen bridges have been pop culture currency since, what, the 1980s? Contact? Event Horizon? Every Stargate episode ever made?

But sure. Let's have the astrophysicist explain it to the astronaut like he's five.

The Charitable Interpretation (Which I Don't Totally Buy)

Now look, I've thought about this a lot. Probably more than is healthy, and I can see a few ways to make this scene work if I squint hard enough.

Maybe Cooper's being polite? Like, Romilly's clearly excited to explain this stuff, and Coop's the kind of guy who'd let someone finish their thought rather than interrupting them. That tracks with his character - he's patient, thoughtful, not the type to big-time someone else.

Or maybe - and this is a stretch - he's hoping Romilly will mention something new. Some specific detail about this particular wormhole that the mission briefings didn't cover. You never know when an offhand comment might contain useful intel.

But I think this is just Nolan needing to explain wormholes to the audience and not finding a more elegant way to do it.

The Real Problem: When Did They Brief This Guy?

Here's what really gets me. Cooper joins this mission - a mission specifically designed to travel through a wormhole - and apparently nobody sat him down beforehand to discuss, you know, wormhole stuff?

Think about it. He's been recruited for what is arguably humanity's most important mission ever. They're sending him to another galaxy using an intelligently created flaw in spacetime. And at no point during all the preparation, all the training, all the "here's how not to die in space" sessions... nobody thought to cover the basic physics of their primary mode of travel?

I refuse to believe that. These are scientists. Obsessive, meticulous, the-fate-of-humanity-rests-on-our-shoulders scientists. They would have briefed Cooper until his eyes bled. There would have been PowerPoints, diagrams. Probably a whole week dedicated to "Wormhole 101" and another week for "Advanced Wormhole Topics."

So why is Romilly explaining this on the ship? En route? Like it just came up in casual conversation?

"Oh hey Coop, funny thing about where we're going..."

It's Exposition, and That's Fine (Sort Of)

I get it. I do. Movies have to explain things to audiences, and not everyone watching Interstellar has a physics degree or spent their adolescence reading about general relativity for fun. The paper-folding demonstration is elegant, visual, easy to understand. It's probably the clearest explanation of wormhole theory ever put on film.

But the scene makes Cooper look like an idiot. Or at a minimum, like someone wildly unqualified for his job, and that undercuts everything the movie's trying to do with his character.

There were other ways to handle this. Have Cooper explain it to his kids before he leaves - that would've been emotional and informative. Or have Romilly discover something new about the wormhole, prompting a discussion where Cooper demonstrates he already knows the basics but learns the novel information. Or just... skip it entirely, trusting that audiences in 2014 have absorbed enough sci-fi to follow along.

Why This Scene Sticks With Me

In an otherwise meticulous film - a movie that hired Kip Thorne as a scientific consultant, that rendered a black hole so accurately it led to actual scientific papers - this moment feels lazy. It's the one crack in the facade. The one time Nolan prioritized audience hand-holding over internal logic.

And maybe that's why it bugs me so much. Because everything else works so well. The time dilation on Miller's planet is devastating and scientifically grounded, if off by an order of at least one magnitude. The tesseract sequence is wild but internally consistent. Even the "love transcends dimensions" stuff, which could've been hokey, manages to land because the movie earns it.

But this? This is a Harvard professor explaining to a colleague what mathematical addition is.

Final Thoughts

None of this ruins Interstellar for me. Not even close. It's still one of my favorite films of the last decade, a gorgeous and ambitious piece of filmmaking that swings for the fences and mostly connects.

But that scene? That one scene?

Every time. Every single time I watch it, I think: "Coop, buddy, you don't need this explained to you. We both already know that."

Maybe in the next rewatch I'll finally make peace with it. Probably not, though. Some things just stick in your brain sideways and refuse to dislodge.