🔗 Share this article

Many viewers know this disappointment. The second series of your favorite TV show premieres online, and optimism runs high. The debut season ended flawlessly: future plotlines were teased tantalisingly, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). In the months since the finale, you delved into fan discussions with fellow enthusiasts to uncover hidden hints illuminating what would happen next.

Unfortunately, the return episode disappoints. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. In episode two, a beloved actor's character acts in a way that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. By episode five, it becomes obvious the creators forgot concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Pitfall of Too Many Seasons

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Consider Kaos, a delightfully satirical take on Greek mythology 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, with ten flawless installments. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Top-notch cast members (featuring Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. Several prize nominations followed, and the showrunners proudly announced there would be five seasons to fully explore the narrative. However, a season four finale was just confirmed. And as a fan, I let out a sigh of relief.

The Stranger Things cast returns for season five.

Plot twists have diluted the essence. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, the story grew padded and excessive. That included the show’s tiring habit of highlighting added personalities (such as Shauna’s two-dimensional daughter Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It's aggravating, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

A Growing Trend

But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things have lost the shock of the new, and settled into familiar patterns. Occasionally, series should end on a high note.

Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. Considering Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, writers understand when narratives find completion. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, return repeatedly with declining quality. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Supreme Instance

I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, occupying our minds endlessly, mysteries intact. My top series ever followed this pattern. My So-Called Life, the quintessential youth program, ran for just one year yet felt epic in scale: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. The ending left questions unanswered, but this reflects truth appropriately of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I felt devastated and created my own continuation to answer some of those questions. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.

The Sacred Bond

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

• This writer covers entertainment and style.