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This scenario is painfully common. The second series of your top TV show has just begun streaming, and you're brimming with anticipation. Season one ended with such precision: future plotlines were teased tantalisingly, and a key figure faced a shocking fate – or did they?. In the months since the finale, you scoured online forums with dedicated fans to decode subtle references shedding light on future developments.

But the new season opener falls flat. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. By the next installment, a key performer makes a choice that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. By episode five, it becomes obvious the creators forgot around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. As the underwhelming ending arrives, 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, an amusing Greek myth parody starring Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. 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 currently desire it was a one-season story. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, and every episode hit the right marks. In 1996, a plane carrying an all-girl high school football team crashes in the middle of nowhere. Skilled performers (including Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) depicted the survivors in dual eras. Numerous awards recognition occurred, producers originally mapped out a five-season arc to fully explore the narrative. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. 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. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and their coping with awful experiences, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. A fatiguing tendency emerged of bringing in and focusing on new characters (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) who added little to the overarching plot. It’s frustrating, and witnessing a great series decline into annoyance is disheartening.

A Growing Trend

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

Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. From Sharp Objects to I May Destroy You to Adolescence, TV creators know when to stop when the story has naturally reached an endpoint. Yet the spell breaks for programs including Big Little Lies, originally a limited series, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Hopefully, Adolescence’s producers have thought twice about that rumoured season two.

The Ideal Model

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, living rent-free in our imaginations, cliffhangers and all. My favorite TV show of all time has played out like that. This beloved 90s drama, the quintessential youth program, ran for just one year but achieved film-like breadth: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, yet this mirrors real life accurately of never having real, definitive answers to the open-ended questions from your teenage years. After 18 perfect episodes (and one dodgy one), I was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself to resolve lingering mysteries. 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 shows can end gracefully.

• Priya Elan covers entertainment and style.