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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. Season two of your favorite TV show drops on your platform, and optimism runs high. The debut season ended with such precision: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. During the hiatus, you scoured online forums with other hardcores to find some Easter egg clues pointing toward upcoming twists.

But the new season opener falls flat. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. In episode two, a key performer makes a choice that viewers recognize as jarringly uncharacteristic. By episode five, the writers appear to have memory loss regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. And by the disappointing finale, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Pitfall of Overextension

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. Consider Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody with 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.

Considering the thriller Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, with ten flawless installments. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Skilled performers (including Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) played the characters across timelines. Several prize nominations followed, producers originally mapped out a five-season arc to tell the story in necessary detail. But last week, it was announced that it would end with season four. This news brought me relief.

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

Plot twists have diluted the essence. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, we were taken in directions that bloated the original premise. A fatiguing tendency emerged of highlighting added personalities (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) who added little to the overarching plot. It's aggravating, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

A Common Phenomenon

But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Programs including 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. At times, programs must stop while successful.

The thing is, there are joys to be had in a limited, “one-and-done” series. Looking at 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 Supreme Instance

I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, occupying our minds endlessly, mysteries intact. My top series ever followed this pattern. This beloved 90s drama, the quintessential youth program, concluded after a single run yet felt epic in scale: its characters were difficult and contradictory, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the dialogue was untethered from the normal “teen speak written by a 35-year-old” trope. The conclusion provided no neat resolution, 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. Though stored on outdated technology, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.

The Unique Connection

If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more shows can end gracefully.

• Priya Elan writes about the arts, music and fashion.