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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. Season two of your beloved TV show has just begun streaming, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The initial run ended so perfectly: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. After the season wrapped, you delved into fan discussions with fellow enthusiasts to uncover hidden hints illuminating what would happen next.

But the new season opener falls flat. It feels like the entire writers’ room has been fired and replaced by artificial intelligence. In episode two, a beloved actor's character acts in a way that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. By episode five, the writers appear to have memory loss around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. By the lackluster conclusion, you privately hope it had ended sooner.

The Curse of Prolonged Runs

Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Consider Kaos, a delightfully satirical take on Greek mythology with Jeff Goldblum, which Netflix dropped over poor ratings. 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. In 1996, a plane carrying an all-girl high school football team crashes in the middle of nowhere. Excellent actors (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) played the characters across timelines. Numerous awards recognition occurred, producers originally mapped out a five-season arc to develop the plot thoroughly. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. I felt grateful as a viewer.

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 bringing in and focusing on new characters (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It's aggravating, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

An Increasing Pattern

However, Yellowjackets isn't alone. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and embraced predictable tropes. Occasionally, series should end on a high note.

Actually, benefits come from self-contained series. From Sharp Objects to I May Destroy You to Adolescence, writers understand when narratives find completion. However, the magic fades with series like Big Little Lies, first conceived as self-contained, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Supreme Instance

I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, occupying our minds endlessly, unresolved threads included. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. The classic teen series, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, concluded after a single run but achieved film-like breadth: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the dialogue was untethered from the normal “teen speak written by a 35-year-old” trope. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, yet this mirrors real life accurately of youth queries staying forever open. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to answer some of those questions. Though stored on outdated technology, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.

The Sacred Bond

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

• This writer covers entertainment and style.