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Many viewers know this disappointment. The follow-up season of your favorite TV show drops on your platform, and optimism runs high. Season one ended with such precision: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). During the hiatus, you scoured online forums with other hardcores to decode subtle references illuminating what would happen next.

But the new season opener falls flat. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. In episode two, a key performer makes a choice that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. As the story progresses, it becomes obvious the creators forgot concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. By the lackluster conclusion, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Pitfall of Overextension

Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Look at 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.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. The debut offered a richly imaginative setup, with ten flawless installments. 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) played the characters across timelines. There were multiple award nominations, and the showrunners proudly announced there would be five seasons to develop the plot thoroughly. But last week, it was announced that it would end with season four. This news brought me relief.

The Stranger Things cast returns for season five.

The show has made narrative choices that have undermined its heart. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and their coping with awful experiences, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. This involved a wearying pattern of highlighting added personalities (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) who added little to the overarching plot. It’s frustrating, and witnessing a great series decline into annoyance is disheartening.

An Increasing Pattern

Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and fallen headfirst into expected or comfortable cliches. Sometimes shows need to quit when they are ahead.

Actually, benefits come from self-contained series. Considering 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. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.

The Perfect Example

I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, residing permanently in our thoughts, unresolved threads included. My favorite TV show of all time has played out like that. The classic teen series, the ideal adolescent show, ran for just one year but achieved film-like breadth: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the dialogue was untethered from the normal “teen speak written by a 35-year-old” trope. The ending left questions unanswered, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. After 18 perfect episodes (and one dodgy one), I felt devastated and created my own continuation to address unfinished business. Though stored on outdated technology, it shows how series resonate profoundly.

The Special Relationship

If TV creators can remember the sacrosanct relationship between viewers and shows, more shows can end gracefully.

• Priya Elan writes about the arts, music and fashion.