🔗 Share this article

Many viewers know this disappointment. Season two of your beloved TV show has just begun streaming, and optimism runs high. The initial run ended with such precision: future plotlines were teased tantalisingly, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. After the season wrapped, you scoured online forums with other hardcores to decode subtle references illuminating what would happen next.

And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. Cut to the second episode, a key performer makes a choice that viewers recognize as jarringly uncharacteristic. Halfway through the season, 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 Downside of Too Many Seasons

Wanting a series to end early is often late realization; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Take Kaos, a delightfully satirical take on Greek mythology with Jeff Goldblum, which Netflix dropped over poor ratings. However, supporters might find comfort knowing the program avoided a disappointing second season.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I now wish it had been a limited series. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, and every episode hit the right marks. Aircraft disaster leaves a teen girls' team isolated in 1996. Skilled performers (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) played the characters across timelines. There were multiple award nominations, and the showrunners proudly announced there would be five seasons to develop the plot thoroughly. But last week, it was announced that it would end with season four. I felt grateful as a viewer.

The Stranger Things cast returns for season five.

Story decisions have weakened the core. In place of exploring post-rescue life, and their struggle with traumatic memories, we were taken in directions that bloated the original premise. This involved a wearying pattern of highlighting added personalities (such as Shauna’s two-dimensional daughter Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It's disappointing, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

A Common Phenomenon

Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and settled into familiar patterns. Occasionally, series should end on a high note.

Actually, benefits come from self-contained series. Looking at 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, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.

The Perfect Example

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, residing permanently in our thoughts, unresolved threads included. My top series ever followed this pattern. The classic teen series, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, ran for just one year but was cinematic in its scope: its characters were difficult and contradictory, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, 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 adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), 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 Special Relationship

If TV creators can remember the sacrosanct relationship between viewers and shows, more programmes can bow out when the time is right.

• This writer writes about the arts, music and fashion.