The wonderful radio sketch series That Mitchell and Webb Sound had a brilliant bit in its final series where an over-enthusiastic fan accosts star David Mitchell to compliment him on a particular sketch from earlier in the episode. “You should do more of that,” the fan exclaims. Mitchell struggles to understand why the fan wants more of the same: he can listen to the sketch they already did, why does he want them to make more sketches about the same thing? The fan explains, “If you have a sausage roll, and then the next day, that’s all right, isn’t it? It’s not the same sausage roll, it’s more!” Mitchell remains unconvinced: “But that’s food, not comedy. Food is better than comedy. People will eat the same thing over and over again.”

Which brings us, in a terribly roundabout way, to That ’90s Show, and modern television’s determination to prove that, actually, food and comedy are exactly the same, and audiences are willing to gobble up reheated sitcoms just as eagerly as sausage rolls.

That ’90s Show (Netflix) is a revival of That ‘70s Show, which was a hit show from the 90s. Not a reboot, mind: a revival. That ‘90s Show, despite having a different title, is simply a continuation of the That ’70s Show story, based on the belief that this is what people wanted.

And hey, maybe it is. That ’70s Show was, apart from the dire final season, a good show. People loved it. The problem for That ’90s Show is that people who loved That ’70s Show can watch it whenever they want, if they have a Stan subscription or a budget that stretches to a few DVD boxsets.

Those of us who grew up with the characters can bask in our nostalgia for the ’90s by watching a show about the ’70s – much like kids of that era relive their childhood by watching repeats of Happy Days.

Nostalgia is a complicated thing, and the revival of this show just complicates it more: is this a show for new viewers to get a glimpse of what the ’90s were like, or is it an attempt to bring warm fuzzies to those of us who remember the ’90s, by simultaneously reminding us of the actual decade as well as the fictional decade we used to watch a TV show about in the actual decade? It’s exhausting just trying to figure out why we’re watching That ’90s Show, let alone actually watching it.

And actually watching it is exhausting. Not that it’s unpleasant to see the likes of Topher Grace, Kurtwood Smith and Debra Jo Rupp return – none of whom has aged anywhere near as much as would be natural. It’s just that now they’re supporting players to a cast of incredibly annoying teenagers who fail spectacularly to come anywhere near the goofy charisma of their predecessors. The next generation is shown up to be somehow both blatant rip-offs of the characters of the original show, and painful reminders of the fact that they’re not them. Meanwhile, those of the originals who have returned find their own appeal dulled by age and lazy writing.

The problems with That ’90s Show become obvious in the first scene of the first episode, when the mere appearance of the original’s stars bring massive whoops of recognition from the studio audience, the presence of which automatically makes the whole thing feel horribly dated. The fear that this is a show that is going to lean heavily on those whoops doesn’t take long to be confirmed: this is a show that has almost nothing to offer besides “remember this?”