🔗 Share this article

It's an all-too-familiar feeling. The second series of your top TV show has just begun streaming, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The debut season ended so perfectly: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. After the season wrapped, you delved into fan discussions with dedicated fans to uncover hidden hints shedding light on future developments.

But the new season opener falls flat. It feels like the entire writers’ room has been fired and replaced by artificial intelligence. By the next installment, a key performer makes a choice that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. By episode five, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. And by the disappointing finale, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Pitfall of Too Many Seasons

Wanting a series to end early is often late realization; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Consider Kaos, a clever mythological satire starring Jeff Goldblum, which Netflix dropped over poor ratings. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge the show's quality wasn't tarnished by a weak follow-up.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. The first season boasted an inventive concept, with ten flawless installments. 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. Several prize nominations followed, producers originally mapped out a five-season arc to develop the plot thoroughly. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. 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.

The show has made narrative choices that have undermined its heart. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and their struggle with traumatic memories, the story grew padded and excessive. This involved a wearying pattern of introducing peripheral figures (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) who added little to the overarching plot. It's disappointing, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

A Common Phenomenon

However, Yellowjackets isn't alone. 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. Sometimes shows need to quit when they are ahead.

The thing is, there are joys to be had in a limited, “one-and-done” series. Considering Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and 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, first conceived as self-contained, return repeatedly with declining quality. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.

The Supreme Instance

I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, residing permanently in our thoughts, mysteries intact. My favorite TV show of all time has played out like that. This beloved 90s drama, the ideal adolescent show, ran for just one year yet felt epic in scale: its characters were difficult and contradictory, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. The ending left questions unanswered, but this reflects truth appropriately of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to address unfinished business. Though stored on outdated technology, it shows how series resonate profoundly.

The Sacred Bond

When producers honor the special viewer-program bond, more series can conclude appropriately.

• Priya Elan covers entertainment and style.