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Many viewers know this disappointment. Season two of your top TV show premieres online, and optimism runs high. Season one ended so perfectly: future plotlines were teased tantalisingly, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). In the months since the finale, you were perusing Reddit threads with dedicated fans to uncover hidden hints shedding light on future developments.

And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. 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 regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Downside of Too Many Seasons

Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Take Kaos, a clever mythological satire starring Jeff Goldblum, which Netflix dropped over poor ratings. Yet audiences can console themselves that the program avoided a disappointing second season.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I currently desire it was a one-season story. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, with ten flawless installments. 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) depicted the survivors in dual eras. Several prize nominations followed, 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.

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, the story grew padded and excessive. A fatiguing tendency emerged of highlighting added personalities (including the flat character Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It’s frustrating, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

An Increasing Pattern

Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Shows such as 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. 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, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Hopefully, Adolescence’s producers have thought twice about that rumoured season two.

The Supreme Instance

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, residing permanently in our thoughts, mysteries intact. My favorite TV show of all time has played out like that. My So-Called Life, the quintessential youth program, concluded after a single run yet felt epic in scale: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. The ending left questions unanswered, yet this mirrors real life accurately of youth queries staying forever open. After 18 perfect episodes (and one dodgy one), I felt devastated and created my own continuation to resolve lingering mysteries. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Unique Connection

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

• This writer covers entertainment and style.