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This scenario is painfully common. The follow-up season of your beloved TV show premieres online, and you're brimming with anticipation. The debut season ended so perfectly: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). During the hiatus, you were perusing Reddit threads with dedicated fans to decode subtle references shedding light on future developments.

Unfortunately, the return episode disappoints. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. By the next installment, your favorite cast member has done something that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. By episode five, the writers appear to have memory loss regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. And by the disappointing finale, you privately hope it had ended sooner.

The Downside of Overextension

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; most fans protest when their favorite shows are canned before they can get off the ground. Look at Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody featuring 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. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. In 1996, a plane carrying an all-girl high school football team crashes in the middle of nowhere. Top-notch cast members (featuring Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. Numerous awards recognition occurred, and the showrunners proudly announced there would be five seasons to develop the plot thoroughly. 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. In place of exploring post-rescue life, and watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, we were taken in directions that bloated the original premise. That included the show’s tiring habit of highlighting added personalities (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It’s frustrating, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

A Common Phenomenon

Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Shows such as 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. Occasionally, series should end on a high note.

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, TV creators know when to stop when the story has naturally reached an endpoint. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, originally a limited series, return repeatedly with declining quality. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Ideal Model

I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, living rent-free in our imaginations, unresolved threads included. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. My So-Called Life, the quintessential youth program, ran for just one year yet felt epic in scale: its characters were difficult and contradictory, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the conversations avoided cliched adolescent writing. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, yet this mirrors real life accurately of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. After 18 perfect episodes (and one dodgy one), I felt devastated and created my own continuation to answer some of those questions. Though stored on outdated technology, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Special Relationship

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

• Priya Elan focuses on cultural topics.