You might be tempted to rewatch Adam Sandler’s hit 1996 comedy Happy Gilmore before taking in its long belated sequel on Netflix, but there’s really no need. There are so many clips from its predecessor that even those who never saw the original film will have no trouble catching up. Add to that the many original performers repeating their roles, the constant callbacks and the non-stop nostalgia, and the result is less a continuation than an exercise in fan service. If you’re watching Happy Gilmore 2 at home, don’t be surprised if some of the cast members show up at your door offering autographed pictures for a fee.

Yes, it’s been 29 years since the first film, but considering its constant presence on cable and streaming it’s surprising that repeating screenwriters Sandler and Tim Herlihy felt the need to provide so many reminders. But then again, Sandler has always proved adept at giving his audiences what they want. Like the first film, the sequel (directed by Kyle Newacheck) proves moronic, witless and relentlessly vulgar. Which is to say, Happy Gilmore fans will love it.

As the story begins, Happy is all washed-up, lost in an alcoholic haze after accidentally killing his beloved wife Virginia with an errant golf ball (Julie Bowen smartly bails from the proceedings after a few minutes, her character only briefly reappearing periodically as a ghost). He’s lost his home, he’s broke, and he works a menial job at a supermarket, which is not going to pay for his daughter Vienna’s expensive tuition at a Paris ballet academy. (She’s played by Sandler’s daughter Sunny, continuing his penchant for casting friends and family members in his movies.)

So as former golfer John Daly, who’s living in his garage, points out, there’s nothing else for Happy to do but go back to playing golf. Returning to the links turns out to be humiliating, since his first time out on the course with some strangers (played by the likes of Eric Andre and Margaret Qualley) proves disastrous. But he eventually sobers up after attending a support group for “alkies” led by former retirement home orderly Hal (Ben Stiller, somehow managing not to be funny).

Encouraged by the other veteran golfers — the film features cameos from so many well-known players it should be shown on ESPN, not Netflix — Happy, who still suffers from anger management issues, re-enters the circuit. Except his competition this time isn’t Shooter McGavin, his arch-nemesis from the first film, but rather an upstart group called Maxi Golf, a bizarre new concept featuring show biz embellishments and golfers who’ve been surgically enhanced to improve their swings. (Its CEO is played by Benny Safdie, who, along with brother Josh, directed Uncut Gems, a film that demonstrated Sandler’s genuine acting chops. Here, the talented actor/filmmaker is reduced to a running gag involving his character’s horrifically bad breath.)

Speaking of Shooter McGavin, he thankfully does reappear in the glorious form of Christopher McDonald, as if you had any doubt. Released from the mental institution in which he’s been confined since the events of the previous film, Shooter winds up as Happy’s ally, although not before the two of them duke it out in a cemetery filled with tombstones emblazoned with the names of now-deceased characters (including Bob Barker, whose fight with Sandler in the first film became iconic).

Carl Weathers’ Chubbs Peterson was also slated to return, until the actor died last year. So this film features the character’s son Slim Peterson (Lavell Crawford), who, like his father, sports a prosthetic hand that has the inconvenient propensity for falling off.

And so it goes, with nearly every minute of the film featuring a reference to the original in one form or another. It all feels extremely lazy and self-indulgent, especially Sandler’s tendency to cast nearly everyone he’s ever worked with or even met. The cameos here are so voluminous that you need a cheat sheet to keep up, although most of them barely make an impression.

Sandler lazily walks through the film looking, as one character describes him, like someone who “got divorced four seconds ago.” Thankfully, McDonald is on hand to lend the proceedings some genuine lunacy. More surprisingly, Bad Bunny turns out to be utterly endearing, and very funny, as a busboy whom Happy hires as his caddie. Although it’s unlikely that anyone had the Puerto Rican superstar slathering a bare-chested Travis Kelce with honey, as he does here, on their cinematic bingo card.

Other than a running gag revolving around Happy’s use of every possible object as a liquor container, the film’s main humor involves people being painfully hit by golf balls. By the time the movie ends and you’ve been assaulted by one tired gag after another, you’ll know exactly how they feel.