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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. The second series of your favorite TV show premieres online, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. Season one ended flawlessly: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a key figure faced a shocking fate – or did they?. After the season wrapped, you were perusing Reddit threads with dedicated fans to find some Easter egg clues illuminating what would happen next.

Unfortunately, the return episode disappoints. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. In episode two, a key performer makes a choice that viewers recognize as jarringly uncharacteristic. As the story progresses, the writers appear to have memory loss concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. And by the disappointing finale, you privately hope it had ended sooner.

The Curse of Too Many Seasons

Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Look at Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody featuring Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. However, supporters might find comfort knowing the show's quality wasn't tarnished by a weak follow-up.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I currently desire it was a one-season story. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Excellent actors (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) played the characters across timelines. Numerous awards recognition occurred, creators confidently planned five seasons to tell the story in necessary detail. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. This news brought me relief.

Young actors prepare for Stranger Things' next chapter.

Story decisions have weakened the core. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and their coping with awful experiences, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. This involved a wearying pattern of introducing peripheral figures (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It's disappointing, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

An Increasing Pattern

Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Shows such as Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and settled into familiar patterns. Occasionally, series should end on a high note.

Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, TV creators know when to stop when the story has naturally reached an endpoint. However, the magic fades with series like Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Supreme Instance

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, living rent-free in our imaginations, unresolved threads included. My favorite TV show of all time has played out like that. My So-Called Life, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, lasted for only one season yet felt epic in scale: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, 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. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), I was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself to resolve lingering mysteries. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.

The Sacred Bond

If TV creators can remember the sacrosanct relationship between viewers and shows, more series can conclude appropriately.

• The author covers entertainment and style.