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This scenario is painfully common. The follow-up season of your favorite TV show has just begun streaming, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The initial run ended with such precision: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). After the season wrapped, you were perusing Reddit threads with fellow enthusiasts to find some Easter egg clues shedding light on future developments.

And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. In episode two, your favorite cast member has done something that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. By episode five, the writers appear to have memory loss around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. By the lackluster conclusion, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Curse of Overextension

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Consider Kaos, a clever mythological satire with Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. However, supporters might find comfort knowing their enjoyment of the series won’t have been muddied by a sophomore slump.

Considering the thriller Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, and every episode hit the right marks. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Top-notch cast members (including Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) played the characters across timelines. There were multiple award nominations, creators confidently planned five seasons to develop the plot thoroughly. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. 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.

Plot twists have diluted the essence. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, we were taken in directions that bloated the original premise. A fatiguing tendency emerged of highlighting added personalities (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) who added little to the overarching plot. It's disappointing, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

An Increasing Pattern

However, Yellowjackets isn't alone. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things lack original impact, and embraced predictable tropes. Sometimes shows need to quit when they are ahead.

Actually, benefits come from self-contained series. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, producers recognize appropriate conclusion points. Yet the spell breaks for programs including Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, return repeatedly with declining quality. Hopefully, Adolescence’s producers have thought twice about that rumoured season two.

The Perfect Example

I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, occupying our minds endlessly, unresolved threads included. My top series ever followed this pattern. This beloved 90s drama, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, ran for just one year but achieved film-like breadth: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. The conclusion provided no neat resolution, but this reflects truth appropriately of never having real, definitive answers to the open-ended questions from your teenage years. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), I felt devastated and created my own continuation to resolve lingering mysteries. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Special Relationship

When producers honor the special viewer-program bond, more series can conclude appropriately.

• This writer focuses on cultural topics.