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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. Season two of your favorite TV show premieres online, and you're brimming with anticipation. The initial run ended so perfectly: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. In the months since the finale, you were perusing Reddit threads with dedicated fans to decode subtle references illuminating what would happen next.

But the new season opener falls flat. It feels like the entire writers’ room has been fired and replaced by artificial intelligence. Cut to the second episode, a key performer makes a choice that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. By episode five, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. And by the disappointing finale, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Curse of Too Many Seasons

Wanting a series to end early is often late realization; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Consider Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody featuring Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. Yet audiences can console themselves that the show's quality wasn't tarnished by a weak follow-up.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. The first season boasted an inventive concept, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. In 1996, a plane carrying an all-girl high school football team crashes in the middle of nowhere. Excellent actors (featuring Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. Numerous awards recognition occurred, and the showrunners proudly announced there would be five seasons to tell the story in necessary detail. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. This news brought me relief.

The Stranger Things cast returns for season five.

The show has made narrative choices that have undermined its heart. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and their coping with awful experiences, the story grew padded and excessive. That included the show’s tiring habit of introducing peripheral figures (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It’s frustrating, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

A Growing Trend

But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Programs including Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things lack original impact, and settled into familiar patterns. Occasionally, series should end on a high note.

The thing is, there are joys to be had in a limited, “one-and-done” series. Considering Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, TV creators know when to stop when the story has naturally reached an endpoint. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, originally a limited series, return repeatedly with declining quality. Hopefully, Adolescence’s producers have thought twice about that rumoured season two.

The Supreme Instance

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, living rent-free in our imaginations, cliffhangers and all. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. The classic teen series, the quintessential youth program, concluded after a single run but was cinematic in its scope: its characters were difficult and contradictory, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the dialogue was untethered from the normal “teen speak written by a 35-year-old” trope. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of youth queries staying forever open. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), I was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself to address unfinished business. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Sacred Bond

If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more shows can end gracefully.

• The author focuses on cultural topics.