It’s hard to make a yearly awards show feel special when it’s staged twice in one year. Such was the challenge facing the 76th annual Emmy Awards, which aired just eight months after its warmly nostalgic predecessor due to the prior show’s strike-related delay. (Both shows were helmed by the same producing team.) Factor in the Television Academy’s tendency toward repeat honorees — and more recently, select shows to sweep all awards in their category within a given year — and it’s understandable why Sunday’s broadcast was a relatively muted affair. But drab is drab. Whatever the justifications, the 76th Emmys were a far less dynamic and more stilted watch than the January show.

Take the signature flourish of a night that was otherwise straightforwardly staged: grouping presenters by archetype of character, from fathers to villains to doctors, and surrounding them with custom sets and backdrops. The motif recalled the January Emmys’ amped-up cast reunions, but less specific and evocative (if still endearing, which Connie Britton, Kathy Bates and Mindy Kaling could be with their hands tied behind their back). And inconsistent to boot: “The West Wing” got the classical reunion treatment to present the award for drama series to “Shōgun,” making for a confusing switch-up of MO at the eleventh hour.

The same feeling was evoked by various theme songs deployed seemingly at random: Jessica Gunning’s win for playing a disturbed stalker on “Baby Reindeer” leading directly into the music “Happy Days,” or the opening credits track of “True Blood” leading into a commercial break. Sometimes, the sound of “Dawson’s Creek” would anticipate the stars of “Dawson’s Creek”; at other times, the iconic “Jeopardy” jingle was piped in over a couple of briefcase-clutching accountants. The overall feeling was of enthusiasm and goodwill toward TV without a proper outlet in which to channel it.

Father-son hosting duo Eugene and Dan Levy were affable, though not especially memorable, emcees. Only a bit about getting separated in the audience hit on the squabbling comedic chemistry that won both of them Emmys. Their joint performance was otherwise smooth rather than lively, with a jab at the jokelessness of “comedy” heavyweight “The Bear” a rare instance of edge that got a rise out of the audience. In fairness, it’s hard to win over a crowd that’s surprisingly sparse, as L.A’.s Peacock Theater appeared to be on camera — but the response to the central trio of “Only Murders in the Building” was downright thunderous in comparison, presaging a potential Oscars hosting gig for Steve Martin, Martin Short and Selena Gomez.

Without a more dynamic presentation or mood tangibly buoyed by the recent end of a labor stoppage, the night’s tone was instead set by the winners. It says something about the recent state of the Emmys that a hit show like “Hacks,” in its third season and with several previous wins to show for it, counts as an upset over “The Bear,” which still garnered repeat victories for creator Christopher Storer and stars Jeremy Allen White and Ebon Moss-Bachrach. (Ayo Edebiri’s move into lead actress allowed her colleague Liza Colón-Zayas another sort-of-surprise win. Voters may have had her character Tina’s recent spotlight episode in mind, though she was technically being honored for the 15-month-old Season 2.) Alongside “Red, White & Royal Blue” star Taylor Zakhar Perez, Moss-Bachrach was conscripted into the night’s nadir: a clumsy native advertisement for Johnnie Walker Blue Label, enough to make one yearn for the most pat and clichéd presenter banter.

“Shōgun” provided a more thrilling injection of novelty and emotion, with Anna Sawai bawling before she even made it to the stage and Hiroyuki Sanada powering through the playoff music to deliver a statement in Japanese, then translated by co-creator Justin Marks — fitting for a largely subtitled show about translation. Though there were several references to the upcoming election, most searingly from “Murphy Brown” star Candice Bergen on her own experience with a retrograde, misogynist, wannabe vice president, “Shōgun” co-creator Marks and “Baby Reindeer” auteur Richard Gadd made topical statements more specific to Hollywood. In the midst of a historically great night for the network, Marks praised FX for taking a chance on a largely foreign-language period piece that treats poetry like a sword fight; meanwhile, Gadd pointed out the potential payoff of risk-taking and bold storytelling in the midst of industry-wide malaise.

These points were well-made, but the Emmys largely served as a reflection of a less-than-vital moment in TV history, not a counterpoint. Recurring sound issues messed with the flow; for every Cinderella story like Lamorne Morris’ unexpected win for a triumphant season of “Fargo” or “The Traitors” dethroning “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” there was a John Oliver all but quarantined in his own category after an unbroken streak of wins. (Given the freedom to finally honor someone else in the spun-off talk series category, the Academy went with…Oliver’s former boss Jon Stewart, who returned to “The Daily Show” after a lengthy hiatus.) When the Emmys aren’t looking backward at nearly a century of excellence, they’re stuck in a present that looks slight by comparison.