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Many viewers know this disappointment. Season two of your favorite TV show drops on your platform, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The initial run ended so perfectly: future plotlines were teased tantalisingly, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. In the months since the finale, you scoured online forums with fellow enthusiasts to uncover hidden hints pointing toward upcoming twists.

Unfortunately, the return episode disappoints. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. By the next installment, a key performer makes a choice that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. As the story progresses, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. By the lackluster conclusion, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Curse of Overextension

Wanting a series to end early is often late realization; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Consider Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody with Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. Yet audiences can console themselves that the show's quality wasn't tarnished by a weak follow-up.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I now wish it had been a limited series. The debut offered a richly imaginative setup, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Top-notch cast members (featuring Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) depicted the survivors in dual eras. Numerous awards recognition occurred, creators confidently planned five seasons to develop the plot thoroughly. However, a season four finale was just confirmed. I felt grateful as a viewer.

Young actors prepare for Stranger Things' next chapter.

Story decisions have weakened the core. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and their struggle with traumatic memories, the story grew padded and excessive. A fatiguing tendency emerged of highlighting added personalities (such as Shauna’s two-dimensional daughter Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It’s frustrating, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

A Growing Trend

But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things lack original impact, and embraced predictable tropes. At times, programs must stop while successful.

Actually, benefits come from self-contained series. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, TV creators know when to stop when the story has naturally reached an endpoint. Yet the spell breaks for programs including Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.

The Perfect Example

I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, occupying our minds endlessly, mysteries intact. My favorite TV show of all time has played out like that. This beloved 90s drama, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, ran for just one year but achieved film-like breadth: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the dialogue was untethered from the normal “teen speak written by a 35-year-old” trope. The ending left questions unanswered, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of youth queries staying forever open. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I felt devastated and created my own continuation to answer some of those questions. It might only live on an old hard drive, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Special Relationship

If TV creators can remember the sacrosanct relationship between viewers and shows, more shows can end gracefully.

• The author focuses on cultural topics.