Happy Feet is full of lies; specifically lies of the kind one tells to children, which is to say specifically specifically lies about sex and death.
The lies about sex are I suppose innocuous enough: Happy Feet’s penguins attract mates by shuffling around singing “heart songs”, familiar US pop/soul/R&B hits which express the core of their inner being. Mumble, the plucky little hero penguin, can’t sing - the noises he makes when he tries sound suspiciously like real penguin noises, which the other penguins find unbearable - but instead expresses the core of his inner being through tap-dancing. His parents, Memphis (Elvis) and Norma Jean (Marilyn Monroe), represent an imaginary sexual rapport, an impossible Oedipal apex; in the libidinal theatre structured by this fantasy, Mumble himself is sexually deviant, a procreationary misfire, although it is never in doubt that he actually has a core of inner being which is indexed by his (be it ever so aberrant) mating behaviour.
The film tells one big lie about death, however, and it does it almost in passing through the slightest of visual hints. At the point where Mumble leaves Antarctica, pursuing a fishing trawler in a bid to persuade its human operators to stop depleting the stocks of marine wildlife, he does so by leaping from the top of a tall, skyscraper-proportioned crag of ice. His death-defying plummet ends with him disappearing into the ocean - surely he cannot have survived such a plunge? Of course, seconds later he resurfaces and swims off in pursuit of the trawler.
The visual clue takes only an instant: we see that the crag from which Mumble has jumped is mirrored by a second, almost identical crag of similar height: twin towers. In this way, the fatal plummet of those who jumped out of the windows of the World Trade Centre is re-imagined with a happy ending: don’t worry, children, in the movie version that falling man survived - and managed to persuade his people’s enemies of the inherent lovability and respect-worthiness of the Penguin/American nation…