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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. The follow-up season of your top TV show premieres online, and optimism runs high. The debut season ended flawlessly: future plotlines were teased tantalisingly, and a key figure faced a shocking fate – or did they?. In the months since the finale, you delved into fan discussions with fellow enthusiasts to find some Easter egg clues illuminating what would happen next.

And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. 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. As the story progresses, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you long for an earlier termination.

The Pitfall of Too Many Seasons

Wanting a series to end early is often late realization; most fans protest when their favorite shows are canned before they can get off the ground. Look at Kaos, a clever mythological satire featuring Jeff Goldblum, which Netflix dropped over poor ratings. However, supporters might find comfort knowing their enjoyment of the series won’t have been muddied by a sophomore slump.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I currently desire it was a one-season story. The debut offered a richly imaginative setup, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. Aircraft disaster leaves a teen girls' team isolated in 1996. Skilled performers (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) depicted the survivors in dual eras. There were multiple award nominations, 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.

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

Story decisions have weakened the core. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. A fatiguing tendency emerged of highlighting added personalities (including the flat character Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It's disappointing, and witnessing a great series decline into annoyance is disheartening.

An Increasing Pattern

However, Yellowjackets isn't alone. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things have lost the shock of the new, and fallen headfirst into expected or comfortable cliches. Sometimes shows need to quit when they are ahead.

Actually, benefits come from self-contained series. Considering Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, writers understand when narratives find completion. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, first conceived as self-contained, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.

The Perfect Example

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, living rent-free in our imaginations, cliffhangers and all. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. The classic teen series, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, concluded after a single run but achieved film-like breadth: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, but this reflects truth appropriately of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), I was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself to address unfinished business. Though stored on outdated technology, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Sacred Bond

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

• Priya Elan focuses on cultural topics.