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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. The second series of your top TV show drops on your platform, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The debut season ended with such precision: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. After the season wrapped, you scoured online forums with fellow enthusiasts to decode subtle references illuminating what would happen next.

And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. 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. Halfway through the season, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you privately hope it had ended sooner.

The Pitfall of Too Many Seasons

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Look at Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody starring Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. Yet audiences can console themselves that the show's quality wasn't tarnished by a weak follow-up.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I currently desire it was a one-season story. The debut offered a richly imaginative setup, with ten flawless installments. Aircraft disaster leaves a teen girls' team isolated in 1996. Top-notch cast members (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. Numerous awards recognition occurred, producers originally mapped out a five-season arc to fully explore the narrative. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. This news brought me relief.

Young actors prepare for Stranger Things' next chapter.

The show has made narrative choices that have undermined its heart. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and their coping with awful experiences, the story grew padded and excessive. A fatiguing tendency emerged of bringing in and focusing on new characters (such as Shauna’s two-dimensional daughter Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It's aggravating, 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 lack original impact, 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, 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, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Hopefully, Adolescence’s producers have thought twice about that rumoured season two.

The Perfect Example

I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, residing permanently in our thoughts, unresolved threads included. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. This beloved 90s drama, the quintessential youth program, concluded after a single run but achieved film-like breadth: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of youth queries staying forever open. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to address unfinished business. Though stored on outdated technology, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.

The Sacred Bond

When producers honor the special viewer-program bond, more shows can end gracefully.

• The author writes about the arts, music and fashion.