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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. The second series of your beloved TV show premieres online, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The initial run ended flawlessly: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a key figure faced a shocking fate – or did they?. During the hiatus, you delved into fan discussions with fellow enthusiasts to decode subtle references pointing toward upcoming twists.

Unfortunately, the return episode disappoints. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. Cut to the second episode, your favorite cast member has done something that viewers recognize as jarringly uncharacteristic. As the story progresses, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. By the lackluster conclusion, you privately hope it had ended sooner.

The Pitfall of Overextension

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Consider Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody featuring Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. However, supporters might find comfort knowing the program avoided a disappointing second season.

Looking back at the horror-mystery show Yellowjackets, I currently desire it was a one-season story. The first season boasted an inventive concept, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. Aircraft disaster leaves a teen girls' team isolated in 1996. Top-notch cast members (including 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 tell the story in necessary detail. But last week, it was announced that it would end with season four. And as a fan, I let out a sigh of relief.

Gaten Matarazzo, Finn Wolfhard, Caleb McLaughlin and Noah Schnapp in the forthcoming fifth season of Stranger Things.

Story decisions have weakened the core. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and their struggle with traumatic memories, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. That included the show’s tiring habit of introducing peripheral figures (including the flat character Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It's disappointing, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

A Common Phenomenon

Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things lack original impact, and settled into familiar patterns. At times, programs must stop while successful.

Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. Considering Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, writers understand when narratives find completion. However, the magic fades with series like Big Little Lies, first conceived as self-contained, return repeatedly with declining quality. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Ideal Model

I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, living rent-free in our imaginations, mysteries intact. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. The classic teen series, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, lasted for only one season yet felt epic in scale: its characters were difficult and contradictory, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. The conclusion provided no neat resolution, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. After 18 perfect episodes (and one dodgy one), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to address unfinished business. 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 writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more shows can end gracefully.

• This writer focuses on cultural topics.