🔗 Share this article

This scenario is painfully common. The follow-up season of your beloved TV show drops on your platform, and optimism runs high. Season one ended flawlessly: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. In the months since the finale, you delved into fan discussions with dedicated fans to decode subtle references 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. In episode two, your favorite cast member has done something that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. By episode five, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you long for an earlier termination.

The Downside of Prolonged Runs

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Consider Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody with Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge their enjoyment of the series won’t have been muddied by a sophomore slump.

Considering the thriller Yellowjackets, I currently desire it was a one-season story. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. In 1996, a plane carrying an all-girl high school football team crashes in the middle of nowhere. Excellent actors (including Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) depicted the survivors in dual eras. Several prize nominations followed, creators confidently planned five seasons to fully explore the narrative. But last week, it was announced that it would end with season four. I felt grateful as a viewer.

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

Story decisions have weakened the core. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and their struggle with traumatic memories, the story grew padded and excessive. That included the show’s tiring habit of highlighting added personalities (including the flat character Callie) who added little to the overarching plot. It’s frustrating, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

A Growing Trend

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 fallen headfirst into expected or comfortable cliches. Occasionally, series should end on a high note.

The thing is, there are joys to be had in a limited, “one-and-done” series. Considering Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, writers understand when narratives find completion. Yet the spell breaks for programs including Big Little Lies, first conceived as self-contained, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Ideal Model

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, residing permanently in our thoughts, mysteries intact. My top series ever followed this pattern. My So-Called Life, the ideal adolescent show, lasted for only one season yet felt epic in scale: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. The conclusion provided no neat resolution, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of youth queries staying forever open. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to address unfinished business. It might only live on an old hard drive, it shows how series resonate profoundly.

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 covers entertainment and style.