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This scenario is painfully common. The second series of your top TV show premieres online, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. Season one ended so perfectly: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). After the season wrapped, you delved into fan discussions with other hardcores to uncover hidden hints pointing toward upcoming twists.

But the new season opener falls flat. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. By the next installment, a beloved actor's character acts in a way that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. Halfway through the season, it becomes obvious the creators forgot concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. And by the disappointing finale, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Pitfall of Too Many Seasons

Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; most fans protest when their favorite shows are canned before they can get off the ground. Look at Kaos, a delightfully satirical take on Greek mythology starring Jeff Goldblum, which Netflix dropped over poor ratings. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge the show's quality wasn't tarnished by a weak follow-up.

Considering the thriller Yellowjackets, I now wish it had been a limited series. The debut offered a richly imaginative setup, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Skilled performers (featuring Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. Several prize nominations followed, creators confidently planned 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.

Young actors prepare for Stranger Things' next chapter.

Plot twists have diluted the essence. In place of exploring post-rescue life, and their coping with awful experiences, we were taken in directions that bloated the original premise. This involved a wearying pattern of highlighting added personalities (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It’s frustrating, and witnessing a great series decline into annoyance is disheartening.

A Growing Trend

But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and fallen headfirst into expected or comfortable cliches. 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, writers understand when narratives find completion. However, the magic fades with series like Big Little Lies, originally a limited series, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Hopefully, Adolescence’s producers have thought twice about that rumoured season two.

The Ideal Model

I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, living rent-free in our imaginations, mysteries intact. My top series ever followed this pattern. My So-Called Life, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, ran for just one year but achieved film-like breadth: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, and the conversations avoided cliched adolescent writing. The ending left questions unanswered, but this reflects truth appropriately of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. After 18 perfect episodes (and one dodgy one), I was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself to answer some of those questions. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, it shows how series resonate profoundly.

The Special Relationship

If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more series can conclude appropriately.

• The author writes about the arts, music and fashion.