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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. Season two of your favorite TV show drops on your platform, and you're brimming with anticipation. The initial run ended so perfectly: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). After the season wrapped, you scoured online forums with other hardcores to decode subtle references pointing toward upcoming twists.

Unfortunately, the return episode disappoints. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. By the next installment, your favorite cast member has done something that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. As the story progresses, it becomes obvious the creators forgot around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. And by the disappointing finale, you privately hope it had ended sooner.

The Pitfall of Overextension

Wanting a series to end early is often late realization; most fans protest when their favorite shows are canned before they can get off the ground. Consider Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody with Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge their enjoyment of the series won’t have been muddied by a sophomore slump.

Looking back at the horror-mystery show 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. Skilled performers (featuring Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) played the characters across timelines. There were multiple award nominations, producers originally mapped out a five-season arc to tell the story in necessary detail. But last week, it was announced that it would end with season four. This news brought me relief.

Young actors prepare for Stranger Things' next chapter.

The show has made narrative choices that have undermined its heart. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and their struggle with traumatic memories, the story grew padded and excessive. This involved a wearying pattern of highlighting added personalities (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It's disappointing, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

An Increasing Pattern

But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things have lost the shock of the new, 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, producers recognize appropriate conclusion points. Yet the spell breaks for programs including Big Little Lies, first conceived as self-contained, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Hopefully, Adolescence’s producers have thought twice about that rumoured season two.

The Perfect Example

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, occupying our minds endlessly, unresolved threads included. My favorite TV show of all time has played out like that. My So-Called Life, the quintessential youth program, ran for just one year yet felt epic in scale: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. The ending left questions unanswered, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of youth queries staying forever open. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself 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 series can conclude appropriately.

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