Bibleman: Six Lies of the Fibbler

Review by Heckler King

Willie Aames rides again as Oregon’s protector of Christianity. Yes, really. In this daring adventure, he faces the laughable terrifying menace of the Fibbler, a villain who threatens to break up a five-member youth group in the name of Satan!

Miles Peterson aka Bibleman (Willie Aames)

Year: 2001
Censorship Rating: Not rated, but aimed at a family audience

A middle-aged woman walks onscreen, and asks, “Ever get the feeling the things our kids learn from TV will never get better? Or that those entertainment moguls in Hollywood haven’t the foggiest idea of what we parents want our kids to be watching?” She goes on to promise wholesome alternatives from Pamplin Entertainment, like the Singing Place, a laughably ersatz Sesame Street, and Bibleman, of course, which “teaches our kids Biblical truth and character, without sacrificing the excitement of live action.” Frankly lady, I think YOU haven’t got the foggiest idea of how what you’re saying matches up with the products you’re hawking. We want to entertain our kids without teaching them violence is cool, but what the hell do you call how Bibleman deals with the undesirable elements in his shows? He hunts them down and has sword fights with them! Yes, truly a role model for how good, peaceful people behave.

Cut to a place we will soon know as the Biblecave, where we see shots of beakers of colored liquid throwing off dry ice fog, banks of computer equipment that would have the Adam West Batman laughing in derision (although you really have to think that’s where most of the inspiration for Bibleman came from), and a guy in a lab coat who walks down a flight of stairs, touches his hand to one of those palm scanners, which causes a booth to open and spill more dry ice fog into the room. He then reaches out to take a purple mask from the room he has just unlocked… and I wonder why Miles would set it up so that the booth where he stores his costume is full of dry ice. Does that just make him feel cool and heroic? I guess so, because it seems like a lot of trouble to go to when at this point he’s the only one who ever uses the Biblecave.

We get fed Bibleman’s secret superhero origin, where Miles Peterson (Willie Aames) had wealth, status, all manner of forms of material success, but something was lacking. “Miserable, alone, his spirit beaten, Miles Peterson gave up.” Kneeling on a rainy soundstage, he opens his briefcase and flings its contents aside, lets out despairing cry and slumps forward, in a striking parallel to how Willie Aames himself found God, I‘m sure. And showing that quality has always been the watchword of the Bibleman series, he pulls his coat off his shoulders as he slumps forward but it’s back on when he hits the ground. “But then in his darkest hour, the words of a single book began to change his life.” He finds a holy Bible, nicely preserved despite the fact that it was covered by mud and urban detritus in the rain. Then someone shines a spotlight over Miles and simple as that he is born again and vows to battle evil as the bringer of biblical smack down, Bibleman! Does it matter that it looked like he had found salvation without even opening the Bible he found? Great for him if finding a Bible under urban refuse is all it took to save his soul, but that makes the narration wrong.

That out of the way, we can begin our horrendously campy opening theme song. It bears mentioning that I believe I have the original version of this episode, before they went back and replaced the theme music with a more rock music-type opening.

How bad is the theme song? Heckler King’s viewing partner Crazy Bill suggested I include this real verbal exchange to explain it.

Heckler King: Bibleman’s theme song sucked.
Crazy Bill: Bibleman had a theme song?
HK: In the first one it did.
CB: Was it cheesy?
HK: If you were lactose intolerant, it would kill you.

Since I’m trying to share with you the pain of actually listening to this trash, I’m subjecting you to the lyrics of this song just as I subjected myself. Hope you’re wearing a helmet.

The Bibleman’s comin’ so you better stick around,
A brand new episode is comin’ to your town!
A whole lotta fun with the greatest book of all,
The Bibleman’s comin’ and it’s gonna be a ball!
Go get everyone you know,
‘Cuz it’s just about time for the Bibleman show!
It’s the Bible, It’s the Bible, It’s the Bibleman show!
We’re learnin’ how to live, and we’re learnin’ how to grow!
It’s story-tellin’, picture-paintin’, groovin’ don’cha knooooow!
Everybody get ready for the Bibleman show!

Guess the one positive value the Bible doesn’t teach is good grammar. An interesting tidbit, everyone seems to think Willie Aames dreamed up this series, and while he is an executive producer/writer/director/starring actor/king of the universe for a lot of the later episodes, according to the opening credits Bibleman is actually the creation of a fellow named Tony Salerno. I’m going to take that with a grain of salt for now, though. We meet the kids Bibleman disgorges his morals to at this early point in his career under the credits: Ryan, a bespectacled white kid, Ricky, a Hispanic boy, young black girl Ashley, Calli, your archetypal suburban white girl, and Nikki, a girl that Heckler King’s partner Crazy Bill thought was supposed be Israeli.

When my ears stopped bleeding, I was brave enough to start the episode proper, with the words “The Six Lies of the Fibbler” appearing in big cartoony letters above footage of Ashley riding her bike to meet the other kids for church song practice. She’s running late, and some dialogue indicates this has happened before. Tired of waiting for Ash, they decide to start without her. They begin to sing a schmaltzy song that goes on way too long and shows why you’ve never heard of these kids anywhere else. These kids singing and dancing to these uplifting songs was a portion of the Bibleman shows I have to notice was disposed of quite quickly. Maybe it was because it’s the Bibleman show, not the pre-teen Christian dance troupe show. Or maybe it was too much work for the crew to write and choreograph two or three numbers per episode.

The song is something like, “Get Bible Vision.” At the end, Ashley finally arrives, and as she runs up to the house and her, um, friends, we see a fellow with lumpy yellow make up and neon green hair crouching behind a tree, the nefarious Fibbler. When Ashley tries to explain her tardiness, the Fibbler says, “I had to take care of my sick mom,” and blows green smoke, which makes her say it too. Deciding to make things worse with another fib, he adds, “I think my cat gave my mom what it had,” which she again speaks, the puppet of his evil wiles. By the way, that’s two lies of the Fibbler. I’m going to see if they actually meant what it said in the title.

I need to take a minute out here and make a mountain out of a molehill again. This, and most other episodes of Bibleman, muddy the waters of the problems the show tries to advise us on in much the way Captain Planet did. Basically, demonic super villains cause all of our spiritual problems. Other people might not have a problem with this idea, but I believe I’m only human. I’m of the school of thought where I’m more likely to try to improve myself and learn from my mistake if I’m to blame for it, than I am upon learning my lapse was caused by some force beyond my control. If I lie to avoid trouble or get angry at somebody those are flaws in my own character that I have to answer for and work to lessen. On the other hand, if some guy drugs me with something to make me tell a lie or get angry at someone, why should that illustrate why I need to improve my conduct? I had no control. You see what I mean?

Of course, the problem with that school of thought is that you can’t have an action-packed sword fight with a sinful concept.

Fortunately, Bibleman beams down before things get any uglier. He looks over his shoulder, and can clearly tell that a henchman of Satan is present, but says nothing to the kids and does nothing to remove him from the premises. After all, we have another thirty eight minutes of runtime we need to fill. The Fibbler is invisible to everyone else, though, even the local pastor, and at my screening we wondered what allowed Bibleman to be the one person who could see him. In the end we figured he had Bible Vision like the song says.

After a few words from the Big B about how they “are like the light of the whole world,” and at their performance at church that night they need to be that light so other people will praise God, all bad tempers are dissipated and Bibleman takes his leave. I don’t know about this, though. The people who are liable to go to church to see a bunch of kids perform a song are liable to be Christian already, the kind of people who already praise our Father in Heaven. So what difference will it make if the kids be that light at their performance? By the way, Bibleman started off a lot cheesier than it has since become. I was honestly expecting him to break during his speech and say, “Why don’t we see what our friend Barney the purple dinosaur has to say?”

The kids go home to get ready, and Ryan asks Ashley to bring half the music to the performance, because that way “we could sort of be a team.” Here’s another reason you’ve never seen these kids anywhere else. This is easily the most awkward performance I’ve ever seen in a Bibleman episode, and believe me, that’s saying something. Having mended fences with Ashley by sharing his responsibilities with her, Ryan goes inside and Ashley heads home to get ready. The Fibbler sings his own praises some, and exclaims, “The Master’s gonna love you!” in Ashley’s direction. What the hell is he talking about? All his sinister work sowing discord among the youth group was undone by one little pep talk from Bibleman. He should be cursing that meddling hero, and promising that the scripture-spouter hasn’t seen anything yet. And I just noticed Fibbler has a lumpy yellow face but ordinary human hands. God, what a stupid show.

Cut to that night at a local church, where our groovy gang is performing a song called “We are the fruit of God’s love.” The crowd eats it up, of course, and even I’m only tactless enough to say it sucks in a review like this. We see the crowd clapping at their performance, and it looks like most of them came to church straight from casual dress Friday. A second later the kids are all in another room congratulating each other on their contributions to the performance, and sitting on a stack of boxes, unseen, is Fibbler, sniffing a wilted rose. Pastor Greg (who’s only in this one series so he’s barely worth even naming) comes in and congratulates the kids, then tells them the audio technician needs the tape for the next song. Is there any reason why they wouldn’t give the audio technician all the tapes before they perform? Faith, Heckler King, not logic. *sigh*

This tape, of course, being the one Ryan gave Ashley in the last scene, and he asks her to produce it. Fibbler uses his satanic power to put words in Ashley’s mouth again, “Why are you asking me, Ryan? It’s your responsibility.” (Three (3) lies) This causes the expected dissension in the kiddie ranks. Just a quick question: how is Fibbler able to infiltrate the church? The series became extremely elliptical about it later for some reason, but Fibbler is obviously supposed to be a demon. Aren’t demons unable to enter holy ground, or at least stripped of most of their power if they do? There’s a reason the gathering hall in a church is called the sanctuary…

Pastor Greg breaks it up and goes out into the sanctuary to tell the congregation that due to technical problems, the rest of the performance will have to be scrubbed. The Fibbler stands next to him, making a mocking version of the pastor’s platitudes to the congregation before taking his leave of the church in demonic glee. Spotting the departing demon, Bibleman excuses himself from the people he’s talking to (I read somewhere the girl he’s holding is his real life daughter Harleigh, who will be the villain’s victim in an upcoming episode) and chases him outside. I notice he doesn’t exclaim, “A demon in a house of God!” or something similar as he does. Maybe people would think he’s a kook since only he has the Bible Vision needed to see Fibbler, but if they’re already okay with a grown man running around their town in purple tights telling their kids how to live... But speaking of Bibleman not pointing out the demon, whenever he’s lecturing the put-upon kid du jour, he never mentions that the cause of their doubting their faith or developing a case of swelled-headedness is a super villain toying with their mind. Guess then they’d be liable to think like I do and not think they need a lecture. And by the coda of Pamplin Entertainment, with their values, not violence, family entertainment, Bibleman isn’t much of a role model without his lectures.

Bibleman runs outside, and Fibbler attempts to attack with his light saber from behind. A stab in the back! Truly you do work for the Prince of Evil! Fortunately, Bibleman was on the ball, and his arm guard opens up and shoots his own light saber into his hand in time for him to block Fibbler’s slash with it. “I don’t know who you are,” Bibleman practically spits, “but one whiff of your foul personality and I know who sent you!” His personality? Okay, there was trying to smite him from behind, but this is obviously their first encounter. Bibleman really doesn’t know anything about Fibbler’s personality yet. They have a slow and rather tepid sword fight (well yeah, their swords are made out of plastic and would break if they hit too hard), with foleyed-in metal-on-metal sounds whenever their blades meet. “Aren’t we cute?” Fibbler asks during one stalemate for some reason, probably just to be annoying. “No, we’re not!” a contemptuous Bibleman retorts. Fibbler shouts, “You have no authority over me, Bibleman!”

“Maybe not, but I know one who does!” Bibleman solemnly intones, “In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth, I command you…” with Fibbler looking helpless in the face of this new development. Unfortunately, a girl runs up and distracts Bibleman for a second, allowing the fell nerd to make good his escape.

Um, ok. So Fibbler, a demon, is able to enter a house of God, remain at full strength and unseen by all but Bibleman while doing so, but he has to submit to a command in Jesus’ name? I don’t think they thought this out too well. They also didn’t think about how stupid it makes Bibleman look if all he has to do to expel the horrors he faces is command them to return to Hell in the name of Jesus, since he never tries it again.

The girl, Nikki, although I only know that because Bibleman calls her by name, tells Bibleman that because of the argument Ashley quit the youth group. Clearly, Evil has won a great victory when one kid drops out of a church youth group.

Cut to the Biblecave (I was amused by one monitor that shows a rotating picture of Earth and is obviously a globe spinning behind a plastic screen), where Miles is walking around, vowing that he’ll find out who the demon he faced is and show them who’s boss. It feels really, really weird watching him talk to himself like this, but I have to extend some credit because from all evidence the makers of the show thought so too, as after one more episode they inserted UNICE and a sidekick character, Coats, into the show to give Miles someone to talk to (and patronize, in that order) in the Biblecave scenes.

Notice I didn’t say introduce. Even in the early days when it was just starting out, Bibleman seems to have had something against doing introductions. Cypher, UNICE, LUCI, Coats, Josh… Biblegirl’s the only recurring character who didn’t just pop out of the ether one day and was dropped into our laps like they’d always been there. See my raging against this in the "Bibleman: Fight for Faith" review. The profiles at Bibleman.com give some malarky about Cypher having been a big fan of Bibleman who’d been hoping to be his sidekick, but shouldn’t the shows establish stuff like that too? Guess that’d take away from the time they have for Bibleman to preach or to make their villains look like idiots.

Getting back to our story (*sigh*), Miles sits down at his computer and cycles through several lame-sounding villain files (Unlucky Lucy? Timid Tessie? Yeah, they sound like they’d last long in the Devil’s army) before he comes to the Fibbler’s profile. Are these guys he’s faced before? Then how the hell does he have a file on Fibbler? He didn’t know who the guy was so he obviously never encountered him before. Are there Biblemans all over the country, compiling this database of hellish villains? Does Miles have spies in Hell or something that can give him details on Satan’s minions? Lord… why do you let them create such an inept series in your name? And why do you create fools like me who spend their hard-earned money to watch it? What part am I to play in your great plan?

“So, you’re called the Fibbler, eh?” Miles says to Fibbler’s picture. “Rather nasty character too, arencha?” Well… I guess, as they don’t go out of their way to make him look pathetic and stupid like they do with most of Bibleman’s other enemies. Having named his quarry, Miles says, “Thank you, Lord,” and walks off camera, ending the scene. Uh, thank Him for what, Miles?

The next day, in the groovy gang’s class, they’re all pretty much of the mind that they should apologize to Ashely for fighting and get her to rejoin the youth group. Miles, their teacher, walks in and tells them they better hurry to their next class, then asks Nikki to stay and tell him if everything’s okay. I don’t know what the hell for. He’s also Bibleman, you may remember, and Bibleman was already told what’s going on with the kids in the youth group. Had to do something to extend the runtime, though. Or maybe this is actually extremely clever, and Miles is pretending not to know something is wrong so nobody will suspect he’s really Bibleman. Yeah, that’s gotta be it! Bravo! Superman could learn a thing or two from your concealment techniques, Big B. But when you think about it, that means he's lying, and that's the very sin this episode is warning us against.

This clever gambit having served its purpose, Miles tells her he’s sure things will work out for the best, having heard nothing from Nikki except that things are bad, and then sends her off to her next class. Apparently they won’t without a guiding hand from Bibleman, though, as a voice-over says, “Sounds like a job for Bibleman.” Like he didn’t already know what was wrong and didn’t plan on doing anything about it as the Avenger of Evangelism. There’s a cut and we see Miles standing in the midst of some ripply computer graphics while a column of white cheesy special effects transforms him into Bibleman with hands folded in prayer. I have no idea at all why they changed it, given the thrust of the show, but in the first few episodes that’s how Miles changed; he prayed to God for strength to vanquish evil and would transform into Bibleman. By the power of Gospel… I HAVE THE POWER!!!!!

In the next scene Ashley is on a playground all by herself, swinging on a swing looking sad while a sad song plays in the background. It’s called “There’s still hope for me,” although it certainly doesn’t look that way until Bibleman strolls up to offer some scrituptural words of wisdom. He says that people do things they hate, but God loves us, and if we confess our sins, God makes them go away. He goes on to add that her friends want to forgive her too, and that night at rehearsal she walks in and pretty much it’s all sunshine and roses for them again. Fibbler curses, his crushing victory of driving one kid away from the youth group denied him. And somehow he can see their reconciliation through a thick stained glass window. Well, he is a demon with powers I can only begin to imagine. Of course, he was also written by people who didn’t think through anything they put down on paper but the scripture quotes.

Bibleman appears behind him for their final showdown, and Fibbler, suddenly a toadying wussy, pleads innocence, saying he was only joking about everything he said before. I guess that’s sort of a Lie of the Fibbler, making the tally four, but it’s the last one he ekes out. Man, what a gyp. They couldn’t make the guy lie six times in a forty-minute show? Yes, a fine start for a fine series, indeed.

“Proverbs 13:5 says that a good man hates deceit, and right now I feel very good,” says Bibleman all righteous-like. And well you should, I guess, seeing as you’re like the avenging hand of God or something, Big B. Or maybe just a deluded kook in a cape who thinks finding a Bible underneath garbage makes him a messenger of God. “I bet you do,” Fibbler replies, “BUT NOT FOR LONG!” he adds as he produces his sword and fails to hit Bibleman with it.

“I believe it’s time for a memory verse,” Bibleman declares. “I’m perfectly willing to fight you, and your scripture, Bibleman!” Fibbler replies. I have to say this about the series, they managed to make the quoting during the battle sequences seem somewhat less forced as they made more episodes. “Willingness and stupidity don’t go well together, Proverbs 19:2!” A quote I think this series is a testament to. “Shut up and fight me yourself!” Fibbler yells. Funny, before he said he was perfectly willing to fight Bibleman, AND his little scripture too. That wasn’t the quote he was thinking of, though, and throws another one at us, “Saying foolish things is like setting a trap to destroy yourself, Proverbs 18:7!” Or to get people to write reviews of your stupid movies, like when you say, “Sign me up for this project.” Still not the one he was thinking of, though, and for reasons I can’t begin to try to understand, Fibbler actually asks him to tell him what Proverbs 19:5 is. In case you care, it’s, “Dishonest witnesses and liars will not escape punishment!” What if they confess their sins? I think I can actually see why Bibleman quotes so much scripture when he fights, as it apparently makes the Fibbler so mad he gets sloppy and in a swing that misses Bibleman by a mile, he hits himself in the leg with his own light saber and explodes into CGI triangles. So falls another enemy of the faith.

[UnSub's Aside: Note how the Fibber kills himself, so Bibleman is not directly responsible for his death? For those playing at home, that's how you can obey little things like "Thou shalt not kill" but still have your enemies fall before your sword.]

Back in the Biblecave, where Miles touches the palm scanner to open the booth where the Full Armor of God is contained, but all it does this time is turn the lights in the booth on. Whatever, let this damn thing end! “Thank you for allowing me to be a willing vessel, Lord,” he says, eyes cast skyward. Okay, I’m kinda touchy-feely about a lot of religious aspects, but I just don’t believe that God "allows" you to be a willing vessel. What the hell could that possibly mean anyway? Bibleman serves a nice God who forgives our sins and loves us, and there’s no way I’m buying a God like that would have unwilling vessels. But I just want to get this stupid thing over with, so there ends my rant. Forty minutes… feels like forty years since this stupid thing started.

We cut to the church, where the now reunited youth group performs another song, but since I’m getting cavities from all their scenes already, that’s all I feel the need to tell you about this. After that it’s the end credits, and another great Bibleman adventure is concluded. "Great", that is, because it’s finally behind me.

If you take the time to look, Bibleman actually almost started harmlessly enough. The contradicting treatment of the villains and the kids Bibleman tries to help out are less noticeable in this episode than they soon will be, and when Ashley comes around thanks to Bibleman’s preaching it doesn’t seem nearly as forced as it soon will.

Still and all, the only reason anybody knows about a show as poorly-made as Bibleman in the first place is a phenomenon I’ve dubbed the Captain Planet Syndrome. Look at the show; it’s badly acted, downright dull, full of forgettable songs, bad jokes the target audience wouldn‘t understand, lame action and bad special effects. It‘d have moms thinking it was making their kids grow up into psychopaths except for one thing: it’s about a superhero teaching what are, on the surface, valuable moral lessons to kids, and a lot of people stop there. The things like the hypocrisy of the main character go right over their heads, because hey, it’s a superhero teaching kids about God. What could be bad about a show like that?

Well, if he can’t do things like make up his mind about whether God loves and forgives or punishes, or isn‘t willing to expend the effort to match the establishing shot with the established timeframe, or any of a million other things, a lot. It seemed to me Willie Aames really put his heart and soul into trying to reach out to kids with this series, but never put any intellect or quality checking into the role he played for a decade. The show’s a mess, plain and simple, and that it’s for kids is no excuse because it’s to teach kids how to live.

The sad thing is, no matter how many people like me point these things out, I highly doubt anything’s going to change. Like Bibleman’s fans, his creators’ minds are already made up, and the only thing to really do is wonder how many kids might grow up thinking it’s okay to kill someone who causes you problems thanks to Bibleman.

Bibleman is an original creation, so has no direct comic-related source. How well it shows the teachings of the Bible... well, that's up for you to decide.

The movie is cheesy in the extreme, but the problems with it start out much less pronounced and you could almost think it’ll teach some positive values to your kids.

Fibbler’s death is so ridiculous it’s worth a point all by itself. Other little things, Bibleman having a mugshot of a villain he’s never met, demons being able to enter churches, and Bibleman completely forgetting he can defeat his enemies just by invoking the name of Jesus Christ are worth two more.

Date of review: 06 December 2005