Will Ferrell and Ana Gasteyer. That's the secret. If you grew up watching late-night TV in the late nineties, those names probably trigger a very specific mental image: matching polyester outfits, tiny portable keyboards, and the most aggressive, misplaced confidence you’ve ever seen on a stage.
The Culps—formally known as Marty and Bobbi-Mohan-Culp—weren't just a recurring bit on Saturday Night Live. They were a masterclass in a very specific kind of cringe comedy before "cringe" was even a buzzword. They represented every well-meaning, slightly out-of-touch high school music teacher who thought they could bridge the "generation gap" by operatically covering Destiny’s Child or DMX. It shouldn't have worked. Honestly, on paper, it sounds like a one-note joke that would get old after three minutes. Instead, it became a staple of the show’s Golden Era, largely because of the technical skill hidden behind the absurdity.
The Weird Logic of Saturday Night Live the Culps
Most people remember the outfits first. The Culps looked like they lived in a middle-school auditorium. Marty Culp, played by Ferrell, usually wore a brown suit that seemed a size too small, while Gasteyer’s Bobbi-Mohan-Culp leaned into high-waisted slacks and patterned vests. They were the personification of the "uncool" adult trying desperately to be relevant.
But the real magic of Saturday Night Live the Culps was the musicality. This is something people often overlook when they talk about these sketches. Both Will Ferrell and Ana Gasteyer are actually talented singers. Gasteyer, in particular, has a massive Broadway background (she later starred in Wicked as Elphaba). You can't do a parody of bad singing that well unless you actually know how to sing properly. They used perfect pitch and tight harmonies to deliver lyrics that were fundamentally ridiculous. When they transitioned from a classical operatic style into a rigid, rhythmic version of "Gin and Juice," the humor came from the sheer effort they put into the performance.
They weren't mocking the songs. They were mocking the earnestness of the performers.
Marty and Bobbi-Mohan-Culp always had a backstory, too. It was usually hinted at in their awkward banter between songs. They were music teachers from Altadena, California. They had survived "the incident" at the school or some vague personal drama that they alluded to with a forced, terrifying smile. That’s why it resonated. Everyone has met a "Culp." They’re the people who take their hobbies with a level of seriousness that makes everyone else in the room uncomfortable.
Why "The Culps" Defined an Era of SNL
Comedy in the late 90s and early 2000s was often loud. This was the era of The Roxbury Guys and The Cheerleaders. Yet, the Culps stood out because they were stationary. They stood behind a keyboard and a microphone. The energy didn't come from running around the stage; it came from the facial expressions.
💡 You might also like: Why Love Island Season 7 Episode 23 Still Feels Like a Fever Dream
Have you ever watched Will Ferrell’s eyes during a Culp sketch?
He has this vacant, yet intense stare. He looks like he’s seeing a vision of a better world where everyone appreciates a medley of 90s R&B hits performed in the style of a madrigal. It’s haunting. Meanwhile, Gasteyer provides the grounding. She’s the one who handles the complex vocal runs, often while Marty makes strange percussive noises into his own microphone.
The structure was almost always the same. They would be introduced at a school assembly or a faculty party. Marty would say something like, "We’ve been listening to what the kids are into these days." Then, they would launch into a medley. These medleys were brilliantly curated. They would take the most aggressive, explicit, or "cool" songs of the moment—think "Lose Control" by Missy Elliott or "Survivor" by Destiny's Child—and strip them of every ounce of street cred.
They weren't just making fun of pop culture. They were highlighting the absurdity of trying to "clean up" pop culture for a suburban audience. When Marty Culp shouts "Uh! Get your freak on!" in a high-pitched, operatic warble, it’s funny because it’s a collision of two worlds that should never touch.
The Technical Brilliance of the Medley
If you analyze the arrangements, they’re actually quite complex. They didn't just sing the choruses. They mashed them together.
- The Transition: They would go from a classical piece directly into a rap song without changing the tempo.
- The Instrumentation: Marty’s keyboard—the "Culp-Mobile"—was a character in itself. It provided those thin, cheesy MIDI sounds that every 90s kid remembers from music class.
- The Harmonies: Gasteyer often took the higher, more difficult descant lines, providing a legitimate musical foundation that made the parody hit harder.
Realism vs. Caricature
One reason "Saturday Night Live the Culps" remains a fan favorite is that it never felt mean-spirited toward the music. It was a character study.
📖 Related: When Was Kai Cenat Born? What You Didn't Know About His Early Life
Comedy writers often talk about the "Game" of a sketch. The Game here is "Inappropriate Sincerity." Marty and Bobbi genuinely believe they are doing the Lord’s work. They believe they are saving the youth of Altadena through the power of song. There’s a specific kind of pathos there. In one of their most famous appearances, they perform at a high school graduation. The stakes are low for the audience, but for the Culps, this is their Super Bowl.
This level of commitment is what separates a good SNL sketch from a legendary one. If Ferrell or Gasteyer had winked at the camera once, the illusion would have shattered. They stayed in character until the very end, even when the live audience was roaring with laughter.
The Legacy of the Altadena Music Department
We don't see sketches like this much anymore. Modern SNL tends to rely heavily on political satire or high-concept digital shorts. The Culps were "pigeonhole" characters—they lived in a very specific, small world. But that smallness made them universal.
Interestingly, the Culps were one of the few recurring characters that transitioned well to different environments. Whether they were at a wedding, a funeral, or a school assembly, the joke remained intact because the characters didn't change. They were a constant. You knew exactly what you were going to get: bad sweaters, great vocals, and a version of "Toxic" by Britney Spears that sounded like it belonged in a Lutheran church.
Misconceptions About the Sketch
A lot of people think the Culps were based on a specific real-life duo. While Ferrell and Gasteyer have mentioned in interviews that they drew inspiration from various teachers they knew growing up, Marty and Bobbi aren't a direct parody of any one person. They are an amalgamation.
Another common misconception is that the sketches were easy to write. In reality, the musical timing had to be perfect. If the keyboard beat was off by half a second, the joke wouldn't land. The writers had to carefully select songs that were recognizable enough to be funny but different enough in genre to make the "Culp-ification" process work.
👉 See also: Anjelica Huston in The Addams Family: What You Didn't Know About Morticia
The duo actually appeared over a dozen times between 1996 and 2002. They even made a triumphant return when Ferrell hosted in later years. Each time, they managed to update their repertoire, tackling everything from Lady Gaga to Beyonce. It showed that while music changes, the "Culp" energy is eternal.
How to Appreciate the Culps Today
If you’re going back to watch these on YouTube or Peacock, don't just look for the big laughs. Listen to the vocals. Look at the way Gasteyer holds her sheet music. Note the way Ferrell adjusts his glasses with a sense of unearned gravitas.
There is a depth to the performances that reflects the era of SNL where character work was king. This wasn't about the headlines of the week. It was about two people who loved music too much and understood it too little.
Actionable Ways to Relive the Culp Magic
To truly understand the impact of the Culps, you have to look at the context of late-90s music. They were performing during the peak of the boy band era and the rise of gangsta rap.
- Watch the "Blue Bayou" sketch first. It sets the tone for their relationship and Marty’s obsession with his keyboard settings.
- Compare their "Oops!... I Did It Again" cover to the original. Notice how they keep the melody perfectly intact while completely stripping the "cool" production away. It’s a lesson in how arrangement changes perception.
- Look for the "Career Day" sketch. It’s one of the few times we see them interact with other characters (like the students), and it highlights just how isolated they are in their own musical world.
- Pay attention to the "Lars" mention. Marty frequently mentions his son, Lars, which adds a weird, hilarious layer of "family man" energy to his persona.
The Culps remind us that comedy doesn't always have to be biting or political to be brilliant. Sometimes, all you need is a bad suit, a mediocre keyboard, and a very serious rendition of "Beautiful" by Christina Aguilera. They are a testament to the power of the "straight-faced" performance. In a world of loud, fast-paced content, the slow, rhythmic, and deeply awkward world of Marty and Bobbi-Mohan-Culp remains a high-water mark for character-driven comedy.
Check out the SNL Vault on YouTube for the remastered versions of these sketches. They hold up surprisingly well because the "uncool teacher" is a trope that will exist as long as there are schools and teenagers to be embarrassed by them. Marty and Bobbi weren't just characters; they were a vibe. A very, very beige vibe.