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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 debut season ended so perfectly: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). During the hiatus, you scoured online forums with fellow enthusiasts to find some Easter egg clues pointing toward upcoming twists.

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, your favorite cast member has done something that viewers recognize as jarringly uncharacteristic. By episode five, it becomes obvious the creators forgot around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. By the lackluster conclusion, you long for an earlier termination.

The Curse of Prolonged Runs

Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Take Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody featuring Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. Yet audiences can console themselves that the program avoided a disappointing second season.

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. In 1996, a plane carrying an all-girl high school football team crashes in the middle of nowhere. Top-notch cast members (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. Several prize nominations followed, producers originally mapped out a five-season arc to fully explore the narrative. However, a season four finale was just confirmed. This news brought me relief.

The Stranger Things cast returns for season five.

Plot twists have diluted the essence. In place of exploring post-rescue life, and their struggle with traumatic memories, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. This involved a wearying pattern of highlighting added personalities (including the flat character Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It's disappointing, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

A Growing Trend

However, Yellowjackets isn't alone. Programs including Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and fallen headfirst into expected or comfortable cliches. At times, programs must stop while successful.

Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. From Sharp Objects to I May Destroy You to 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. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Perfect Example

I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, living rent-free in our imaginations, mysteries intact. My favorite TV show of all time has played out like that. This beloved 90s drama, the quintessential youth program, concluded after a single run but was cinematic in its scope: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the conversations avoided cliched adolescent writing. The ending left questions unanswered, 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 was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself to resolve lingering mysteries. Though stored on outdated technology, it shows how series resonate profoundly.

The Unique Connection

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

• Priya Elan focuses on cultural topics.