The Tao of the Penguin: What 'Surf's Up' Teaches Us About Forgetting the Goal and Finding the Story.
Why a 2007 animated mockumentary about surfing penguins is a masterclass in character, theme, and the art of staying present.
Sometimes, movies resonate with you at a certain point in your life because they reflect where you are in your own life. For me, Surfs Up, was one such movie. As a teenager, I had recently transitioned from being a very geeky, academic, and extremely driven young man, to a fun-filled, relatively popular student of the present moment, with an appreciation of what it meant to have fun.
To have a movie explore that transition and play out the dynamics of this internal change, both positive and negative, on the big screen, was a very cathartic and affecting experience. The movie became an example for me of everything I had learned so far, and a message to the person who I wanted to continue to be.
Eighteen years have passed. I am now an adult in my mid-thirties. This progress into adulthood has worn down some of those immediate messages that I gained from the movie. Being present-moment focused and mindful is still a big part of my life, but the drive to succeed, the fear of what happens if I cannot be successful, and the slow loss of my capacity to simply have fun without feeling like I should also be achieving something—these are all manifestations of the pressure the adult world places upon us.
So you can imagine how it felt when a more or less forgotten movie from my formative years popped up on my streaming service one evening. I immediately watched it, and it affected me perhaps more now than it did back then. I am not shy to admit that I shed more than a few tears and shed more than a few years. Tears for the child in me that has slowly been lost, and for the message in the movie that served as a poignant reminder that, yes, there is more to life than the grindstone.
No doubt there are many movies that tell a similar story, with a character arc that follows the same basic pattern toward an emotive and affecting ending. However, I chose this film partly because I had such a childhood connection to it, but also because it's important to show that even in the less celebrated examples, there are gems to be found and lessons on story-craft to be learned.
The Existential Fear of Sorting Fish
So let's analyse this story and what helps it to culminate in such an emotional climax.
We start in Cody's ‘normal world’: Shiverpool. An antarctic icy wasteland populated by shivering penguins who live a simple and practical life. They catch fish, sort fish, eat fish, and raise young. That is the way of life. Cody's brother, Glenn, exemplifies this worldview. He is resistant to anything outside of this world. His pride and sense of purpose are intimately wrapped up in being a solid member of this community, a ‘good’ son to his mum, and nothing else.
Cody, by contrast, is a renegade and rebel. He helps out with his chores and works at the fish sorting depot to help out, but the rest of his spare time is spent surfing. A habit that makes him a bit of an outcast to his community and an enigma to his seemingly long-suffering mum. We learn this habit was brought on by a visit from a famous surfer, Big Z, who came to Shiverpool and showed Cody that there was an alternative to the life he currently leads. The way to find that alternative is to be the best surfer he can be and to win a surfing championship. This serves as ‘the call to adventure’ part of this hero's journey.
In short, Shiverpool and his brother represent a mindset: ambitionless, cynical, and repetitive. Big Z represents the opposite: opportunity, adventure, success. This contrast gives Cody his energy and drive.
Cody’s goal is not just "winning a surfing competition"; instead, he sees surfing as an existential escape. His tunnel vision is born from a relatable fear: "If I'm not the best, I'll be stuck sorting fish forever." Cody's fear for a life he does not want, but that he feels is being forced upon him by virtue of his place in the world, makes his initial extremity, his arrogance, and his dismissiveness of Shiverpool understandable rather than unlikable. This clever use of relatable fear transforms Cody from a character we dislike to a character we root for. His character flaw comes from a place we can empathise with. We understand the desperation and fear driving him.
The Master Teaches the Student (and the Student Teaches the Master)
The mentor is a foundational role in story theory. This is most notably shown in the hero's journey method used to great effect in many of the world's most cherished stories, such as Star Wars with the character Obi Wan Kenobi. Surf's Up is no different, though the way the mentor aspect of the narrative is shown subverts some of the more usual rules, such as the mentor role being spread out amongst a number of different characters: the down to earth Big Z, the ever nurturing Lani, and the simple perspective of Chicken Joe.
There is a set of scenes in the middle of the movie that really captures this distributed mentor approach and uniquely, accomplishes it in a surprisingly relaxed and low stakes way that focuses more on character and less on external circumstances.
Let’s build a surfboard!
The first scene in this sequence starts almost immediately after Cody suffers his first big challenge: failing at a one to one surf off with the main antagonist, Tank Evans. We find him forlorn and alone, having rejected a temporary sanctuary. When the person who represents this sanctuary returns in the form of Geek (aka Big Z) and offers to help Cody build a surfboard, we begin this mentor-led set of new challenges.
On the beach, we get a typical mentor and student scene where Geek tries to teach Cody how to carve a surfboard from wood. The challenge, of course, is that Cody is impatient, has an ego, and doesn’t want to listen. This exchange is dealt with in a comedic way that helps make Cody’s frustration a little more reasonable, with Geek being overbearing and controlling as a teacher. As you might expect, Cody’s board is a disaster and breaks as soon as he tries to use it. This causes a rift in the student-mentor relationship and acts as the ending to the second challenge, which, again, Cody fails.
The next sequence is where we are introduced to one of Cody’s next mentors: Lani. Having stormed off after failing to make a decent surfboard, Cody crashes into Lani, causing her to drop the stack of clams she was intending to deliver to Geek. Lani, upon learning that Cody has managed to get Geek to the beach—a result that she has spent the last ten years trying to achieve—delightedly invites Cody on an adventure with her. This triggers the next mentor moment and the third challenge.
Taking a leaf to use as a makeshift sled, Cody is sent spiralling into a labyrinthine slide that takes him through the volcanic heart of the island alongside Lani. Their contrast is initially stark, with Lani having a great time and Cody trying his hardest to resist the fun of the slide. However, after prompting by Lani to let go of trying to control everything and to just go with it (echoing Geek's lesson with the surfboard), Cody finally lets go, finds that he starts to enjoy it, and what’s more, it becomes incorporated into his ability to surf. He begins to enjoy the slide and treat it like a giant wave that he is able to thoroughly own. In this scene, he starts to show signs of incorporating some of the lessons he is being taught by his peers, and he acknowledges the fact by confessing directly to his previous bad behaviour.
It is this moment in particular that cements the character-driven approach of this film. The challenges are less about whether or not flaming death slides are scary and more about confronting our own demons and our own bad habits. This moment helps the story transcend the mundane and become something quite personal and relatable. In acknowledging his bad behaviour, we get our first glimpse of a successful challenge, and it acts as the pivot point by which the story turns for Cody from one of suffering to one of success. The genius of the movie is that his success comes from learning to be a better person rather than a better surfer.
Finally, we get to the third challenge. Cody goes back to the beach to apologize. Humbled and wiser, he draws out the shape of a new board on the other half of the log and starts to methodically, meditatively carve out a new board, embodying everything Geek tried to teach him and taking the lessons he has learned from Lani about letting go of control and from his friend Chicken Joe about living in the moment. It is a physical manifestation of his internal shift. The sequence culminates in the reward for his growth: a day out surfing with his hero Big Z, on a beautiful shore, with people he cares about. The Miracle of the Present Moment is exemplified in this "idyllic day" scene. Big Z, playing on his surfboard, utters a line: "Can you think of anything better than this?" This is the story's thematic climax—the pure, simple joy that Cody's ambition was blinding him to, realised in its fullest form.
Of course, as story people, we know that this is not the end. Having entered the innermost cave and come out the other side, our main character needs to incorporate what he has learned. This often involves once more confronting the reborn, Hydra-like head of our internal resistance. Change, after all, isn’t easy. It is important that our characters don’t change easily; they must resist the lessons. The arc is made much more satisfying because his transformation is tested under the highest stakes. Crucially, change in a good story is integration, not replacement. This is a really important, nuanced point. Cody is still ambitious and energetic at the end, but his new wisdom is integrated into his personality. He hasn't been replaced by a new penguin; he has grown. This is the key to creating authentic character development.
So how does this manifest for our hero, Cody?
The Final Showdown: A Chicken Meets the Childhood Dream
Cody faces one final gauntlet for his integration. He still wants to compete in the surfing competition despite everything he has learned about being in the moment, enjoying simple pleasures, and letting go of ambition. This shows that a new improved character is not replacing him, but rather is the same penguin, albeit with a new set of guiding moral principles. The high-stakes moment of truth is presented to him as two of his biggest internal selves are brought to bear against each other. In one corner is his childhood ambition: his lifelong dream to be a surfing champion and escape his old life. In the other corner are the new lessons from his experience with Geek, Lani, and Chicken Joe, that taught him to care for others, to be in the moment, and to appreciate surfing for the joy of the sport and not just as an opportunity to win.
As these two warring sides come together, we see him come out of a terrifying wave. Initially he seems shaky, but by breathing and staying in the moment, he finds his way through the foam and finds stability. In the second moment, he is about to win the tournament when his close friend Chicken Joe is threatened by Tank Evans. The two sides of his personality fight, and in the end, he chooses to save his friend. He gives up his first-place position in the competition to instead protect his friend in an act of selflessness that puts him in immediate danger, surfing into the deadly boneyard.
The resolution of this film is where the mastery of storytelling comes to its fruition. It hearkens to an ethos that is touted by Taoism, an ethos I have personally always enjoyed: that of ‘the master and the student being one and the same’. As we watch Cody wrestle with and integrate these two sides of himself—the competitive side and the loving side—we discover that Geek (aka Big Z), rather than being mad at Cody for competing, has in fact come to watch the competition in secret. Upon witnessing Cody’s act of selflessness, Big Z makes a crucial decision to integrate lessons he has been forced to confront, too.
You see, by meeting Cody, we have not had an exclusive mentor relationship where Big Z imparts wisdom to Cody in a one-way street. In this film, we have a master and student who are equally master and student to each other. They both have something to share, and they both have lessons to learn from each other. The writers have cleverly interwoven the two characters so that what one needs, the other has. In Big Z's case, he ran away from his former life because he was afraid of being a loser. He went into hiding and became a shadow of his former self. In learning through his relationship with Cody to accept his own medicine—that is, to enjoy the moment and not hold onto attachment to whether you are perceived as a winner or a loser—and seeing that competition isn’t the enemy, but his own fears were, he resolves to re-introduce himself to the world after saving Cody from the boneyard. The student teaches the master.
It is this clever interweaving of the mentor trope across multiple characters that really elevates this movie from being a simple surfing film to a film about self-development, confronting our own demons, and growing into better people.
Wobbly Cameras and Enigmatic Voices
There are two final elements of this film worth mentioning from the point of view of story craft.
Firstly, the voice acting. Shia Lebouf plays the main character Cody and does an excellent job of giving Cody real personality that feels distinct and authentic. As authors, we must remember this. We must write our characters as if another actor was playing that role. How do they speak? What is their tone and cadence? How does their attitude seep into their words? Our characters must not sound like us; they must sound like someone else.
Secondly, the documentary handheld style. How we communicate our story will have a major impact on how we receive the core messages. In this instance, the documentary style, the candid camera, the direct-to-camera acting—it all helps us connect more with these characters as reflections of reality. They aren’t in a theatre production; it is implied that this is a real place and real situation with people who have meaningful internal lives. In the end, this helps the character progression to feel that much more meaningful and relatable.
In a book, we don’t necessarily have the same benefits as you might in film to play with cinematography, editing, or camera work. But we have other tools that will help to communicate just as effectively: pacing, framing, tense, internal vs. external POV, and more. Use them wisely to support the messages and the story you want to tell.
Conclusion - Bringing It Back to the North Beach
The journey of Cody Maverick—from a life of fear-driven ambition to one of present-moment joy—is not just a great character arc; it's a perfect metaphor for the creative process itself. We can get so focused on the outcome, on finishing the book or "winning" the competition, that we forget to enjoy the simple, miraculous act of creating. We forget the feeling of shaping the board, of enjoying the slide, of just playing the ukulele on the water with people we care about. The story reminds us that success isn't the trophy; it's learning to be a better person, and that is a lesson that can only be learned in the here and now.
As storytellers, we can learn so much from the mechanics of how this film pulls it off. Its masterstroke is evolving the tropes we all know. Take the "distributed mentor" model. How can you, in your own work, take a standard story blueprint and give it a more interactive, communal, and surprising spin? How can you create a world where your hero learns not from one wise old sage, but from the combined wisdom of their entire community, where the student and master can teach each other?
Ultimately, the most powerful thing Surf's Up does is issue a challenge. It encourages us to find the "Big Z" lessons in our own work and lives. It’s a poignant reminder that we should not only write stories that champion these messages of presence and joy, but strive to live by them in our own creative practice. After all, what is the point of telling stories about what it means to be alive if we forget to live along the way?