“Curb Your Enthusiasm” may be over, but some of its concepts seem to still be knocking around in Larry David’s head. The principle that “Happy New Year!” is a sentiment that expires on Jan. 7, for example. Or the offense he takes from a “chat ‘n’ cut,” an etiquette breach in which someone uses a quick catch-up with an acquaintance as an excuse to skip ahead in a line. Or the loathsomeness of a  “pig parker” — a person so selfish they hog multiple spaces rather than take the time to make sure they’re leaving room for others.

All of these ideas first popularized by “Curb” recur in David’s latest HBO project, the sketch show “Life, Larry and the Pursuit of Unhappiness.” The repetition is uncanny for students of David’s rigorous taxonomy of petty human failings, which he spent 12 seasons cataloging as a (barely) fictionalized version of himself rather than retire with his “Seinfeld” riches. (It turns out that, for David at least, money doesn’t buy you happiness — just the ability to fixate on ever-smaller problems once your basic needs are more than satisfied.) But it’s not quite accurate to say that “Life, Larry” merely rehashes “Curb.” After all, the callbacks are intentional, and they occur in a new context: full-on historical reenactment, retroactively projecting David’s well-known persona onto our nation’s past.

“Life, Larry” is loosely timed to America’s 250th birthday and produced in conjunction with Higher Ground, the production company founded by Barack and Michelle Obama. The 44th president himself even provides an on-screen introduction for the seven-episode series, which is otherwise composed of standalone vignettes. “What truly makes America unique is that we’ve always been a work in progress. We’re not perfect,” Obama intones as the camera zooms in on David, decked out in a powdered wig and inserted among the Founding Fathers. “We can be irascible, petty, selfish, cheap. And let’s face it: some of us will always find something to complain about.”

Like all sketch shows, which have to start a story from scratch every few minutes, “Life, Larry” is inherently hit or miss. Its strongest segments, however, are the ones that capitalize on this theme: that history is driven not by great men nor high-minded idealism, but by the foibles and failings that more accurately represent our true nature. Like the asshole (David) who ruins Susan B. Anthony’s dinner party. (He keeps calling her “Susie,” because the suffragette is played by Susie Essman.) Or the asshole (David again) who isn’t invited to the Boston Tea Party because he’s such a terrible hang. Or the asshole (guess who?) abandoning his put-upon wife (Rita Wilson) to go hang out with his best friend (Jerry Seinfeld). (In this case, the asshole is Meriweather Lewis, and the mutual goof-off is the Lewis and Clark expedition.)

Working with longtime collaborators like director Jeff Schaffer, Essman and other former “Curb” stars, David often dresses familiar dynamics in elaborate period costumes. When an escaped slave (J.B. Smoove) stops at David’s house on the Underground Railroad, they immediately fall into the intrusive houseguest-peevish host dynamic we recognize from Larry and Leon. The chat ‘n’ cut takes place in a soup kitchen line during the Great Depression; the vehicle of the aforementioned pig parker is actually a horse.

Such repetition, of course, breaks little new ground for the “Curb” braintrust except production value. (“House of the Dragon” this isn’t, but recreating the Alamo or a World War I trench is still more of a lift than rolling some cameras on the Westside of Los Angeles.) But one can hardly blame David, Schaffer and others for exercising the muscle memory they developed over nearly a quarter century. Instead, the Achilles heel of “Life, Larry” is when the show strains for a kind of earnest political relevance that is not at all in David’s wheelhouse. I’m forbidden from disclosing any details about the sketch due to the prominence of certain guest stars, but an instance of pure anti-Trump grandstanding at the end of Episode 2 is the show’s comedic nadir. Another bit about Jonas Salk’s preening Jewish mother (casting once again under lock and key) predictably stops to tsk-tsk anti-vaxxers — though a direct parody of Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. has more bite, considering the health secretary’s wife Cheryl Hines was a longtime “Curb” star (and is conspicuously absent here).

“Curb Your Enthusiasm” always excelled when sweating the small stuff. “Life, Larry” is no different, even though it has the potential for far larger stakes than its antecedent. Those stakes are best deployed for clarifying contrast, as when David’s James Buchanan is more concerned with introducing the newfangled concept of passed apps than addressing the brewing secession crisis. Whether they’re known as Larry or Lawrence, the show seems to argue, people like David far outnumber their more noble counterparts, even and especially at pivotal moments in our past. Such is the impression given by having the comedian pop up, Zelig-like, everywhere from the Donner Party to Rosa Parks’ fateful bus ride — that, and David’s desire to get the gang back together (plus a few high-profile new additions) to play dress-up. That last part may sound cynical, but what’s more in the Larry David spirit than some cynicism?

“Life, Larry and the Pursuit of Unhappiness” will premiere on HBO and HBO Max on June 26 at 9 p.m. ET, with remaining episodes airing weekly on Fridays.