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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. The follow-up season of your favorite TV show has just begun streaming, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. Season one ended flawlessly: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a key figure faced a shocking fate – or did they?. After the season wrapped, you delved into fan discussions with dedicated fans to uncover hidden hints shedding light on future developments.

And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. 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 viewers recognize as jarringly uncharacteristic. By episode five, the writers appear to have memory loss concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. And by the disappointing finale, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Curse of Prolonged Runs

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, a delightfully satirical take on Greek mythology with Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge their enjoyment of the series won’t have been muddied by a sophomore slump.

Considering the thriller Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. The debut offered a richly imaginative setup, and every episode hit the right marks. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Excellent actors (including Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) depicted the survivors in dual eras. Several prize nominations followed, creators confidently planned five seasons to fully explore the narrative. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. 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 their struggle with traumatic memories, the story grew padded and excessive. A fatiguing tendency emerged of introducing peripheral figures (including the flat character Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It’s frustrating, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

A Common Phenomenon

But it’s not only 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. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, producers recognize appropriate conclusion points. Yet the spell breaks for programs including Big Little Lies, first conceived as self-contained, 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 desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, residing permanently in our thoughts, cliffhangers and all. My favorite TV show of all time has played out like that. My So-Called Life, the ideal adolescent show, lasted for only one season but achieved film-like breadth: its characters were difficult and contradictory, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. The ending left questions unanswered, but this reflects truth appropriately of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to answer some of those questions. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, it shows how series resonate profoundly.

The Special Relationship

When producers honor the special viewer-program bond, more programmes can bow out when the time is right.

• Priya Elan covers entertainment and style.