🔗 Share this article

This scenario is painfully common. Season two of your beloved TV show has just begun streaming, and you're brimming with anticipation. Season one ended with such precision: future plotlines were teased tantalisingly, and a key figure faced a shocking fate – or did they?. During the hiatus, you delved into fan discussions with fellow enthusiasts to find some Easter egg clues 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. Cut to the second episode, your favorite cast member has done something that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. Halfway through the season, the writers appear to have memory loss around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. By the lackluster conclusion, you long for an earlier termination.

The Downside of Too Many Seasons

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Look at Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody with Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. However, supporters might find comfort knowing the program avoided a disappointing second season.

Considering the thriller Yellowjackets, I now wish it had been a limited series. The first season boasted an inventive concept, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. 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 tell the story in necessary detail. However, a season four finale was just confirmed. I felt grateful as a viewer.

Young actors prepare for Stranger Things' next chapter.

Plot twists have diluted the essence. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. A fatiguing tendency emerged of introducing peripheral figures (including the flat character Callie) who added little to the overarching plot. It's aggravating, and witnessing a great series decline into annoyance is disheartening.

A Common Phenomenon

But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Programs including Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and settled into familiar patterns. 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, writers understand when narratives find completion. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.

The Perfect Example

I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, occupying our minds endlessly, cliffhangers and all. My top series ever followed this pattern. My So-Called Life, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, lasted for only one season but achieved film-like breadth: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the conversations avoided cliched adolescent writing. The conclusion provided no neat resolution, yet this mirrors real life accurately 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, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Unique Connection

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

• This writer focuses on cultural topics.