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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. Season two of your favorite TV show premieres online, and you're brimming with anticipation. The debut season ended so perfectly: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a key figure faced a shocking fate – or did they?. During the hiatus, you scoured online forums with dedicated fans to find some Easter egg clues shedding light on future developments.

And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. By the next installment, your favorite cast member has done something that viewers recognize as jarringly uncharacteristic. Halfway through the season, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. By the lackluster conclusion, you privately hope it had ended sooner.

The Curse of Too Many Seasons

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Take Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody with Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. However, supporters might find comfort knowing the program avoided a disappointing second season.

Looking back at the horror-mystery show Yellowjackets, I currently desire it was a one-season story. 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. Top-notch cast members (including 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. But last week, it was announced that it would end with season four. And as a fan, I let out a sigh of relief.

Gaten Matarazzo, Finn Wolfhard, Caleb McLaughlin and Noah Schnapp in the forthcoming fifth season of Stranger Things.

Story decisions have weakened the core. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and their coping with awful experiences, the story grew padded and excessive. This involved a wearying pattern of introducing peripheral figures (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) who added little to the overarching plot. It's aggravating, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

A Growing Trend

But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Shows such as Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and embraced predictable tropes. At times, programs must stop while successful.

Actually, benefits come from self-contained series. From Sharp Objects to I May Destroy You to Adolescence, producers recognize appropriate conclusion points. However, the magic fades with series like Big Little Lies, originally a limited series, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Hopefully, Adolescence’s producers have thought twice about that rumoured season two.

The Ideal Model

I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, living rent-free in our imaginations, cliffhangers and all. 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 cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the conversations avoided cliched adolescent writing. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, yet this mirrors real life accurately of youth queries staying forever open. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to resolve lingering mysteries. Though stored on outdated technology, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Special Relationship

When producers honor the special viewer-program bond, more series can conclude appropriately.

• Priya Elan covers entertainment and style.