🔗 Share this article

Many viewers know this disappointment. The second series of your favorite TV show has just begun streaming, and optimism runs high. The debut season ended flawlessly: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. In the months since the finale, you scoured online forums with dedicated fans to find some Easter egg clues shedding light on future developments.

But the new season opener falls flat. It feels like the entire writers’ room has been fired and replaced by artificial intelligence. In episode two, your favorite cast member has done something that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. Halfway through the season, the writers appear to have memory loss concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you privately hope it had ended sooner.

The Curse of Too Many Seasons

Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Take Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody starring Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge the program avoided a disappointing second season.

Considering the thriller Yellowjackets, I now wish it had been a limited series. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, and every episode hit the right marks. 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, creators confidently planned five seasons to fully explore the narrative. However, a season four finale was just confirmed. I felt grateful as a viewer.

The Stranger Things cast returns for season five.

The show has made narrative choices that have undermined its heart. In place of exploring post-rescue life, and their struggle with traumatic memories, we were taken in directions that bloated the original premise. That included the show’s tiring habit of bringing in and focusing on new characters (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It's aggravating, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

A Common Phenomenon

However, Yellowjackets isn't alone. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and settled into familiar patterns. At times, programs must stop while successful.

The thing is, there are joys to be had in a limited, “one-and-done” series. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, TV creators know when to stop when the story has naturally reached an endpoint. Yet the spell breaks for programs including Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Hopefully, Adolescence’s producers have thought twice about that rumoured season two.

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 ideal adolescent show, concluded after a single run yet felt epic in scale: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of never having real, definitive answers to the open-ended questions from your teenage years. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself to address unfinished business. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Special Relationship

If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more series can conclude appropriately.

• This writer writes about the arts, music and fashion.