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This scenario is painfully common. The second series of your beloved TV show premieres online, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The debut season ended flawlessly: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). In the months since the finale, you delved into fan discussions with other hardcores to decode subtle references shedding light on future developments.

But the new season opener falls flat. It feels like the entire writers’ room has been fired and replaced by artificial intelligence. By the next installment, a beloved actor's character acts in a way that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. As the story progresses, the writers appear to have memory loss concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. By the lackluster conclusion, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Pitfall of Overextension

Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Take Kaos, a clever mythological satire featuring Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. However, supporters might find comfort knowing the show's quality wasn't tarnished by a weak follow-up.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I currently desire it was a one-season story. 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. Excellent actors (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. There were multiple award nominations, producers originally mapped out a five-season arc to fully explore the narrative. But last week, it was announced that it would end with season four. This news brought me relief.

The Stranger Things cast returns for season five.

Plot twists have diluted the essence. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. This involved a wearying pattern of bringing in and focusing on new characters (such as Shauna’s two-dimensional daughter Callie) who added little to the overarching plot. It's aggravating, and witnessing a great series decline into annoyance is disheartening.

A Growing Trend

But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Shows such as Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things have lost the shock of the new, and settled into familiar patterns. At times, programs must stop while successful.

Actually, benefits come from self-contained series. Considering Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, producers recognize appropriate conclusion points. However, the magic fades with series like Big Little Lies, originally a limited series, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.

The Supreme Instance

I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, residing permanently in our thoughts, cliffhangers and all. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. My So-Called Life, the ideal adolescent show, lasted for only one season but was cinematic in its scope: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality 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 address unfinished business. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, it shows how series resonate profoundly.

The Sacred Bond

If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more programmes can bow out when the time is right.

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