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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. Season two of your beloved TV show has just begun streaming, and optimism runs high. Season one ended flawlessly: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a key figure faced a shocking fate – or did they?. In the months since the finale, you were perusing Reddit threads with dedicated fans to decode subtle references pointing toward upcoming twists.

And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. In episode two, a beloved actor's character acts in a way that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. By episode five, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. By the lackluster conclusion, you privately hope it had ended sooner.

The Curse of Prolonged Runs

Wanting a series to end early is often late realization; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Consider Kaos, a delightfully satirical take on Greek mythology starring Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. However, supporters might find comfort knowing the program avoided a disappointing second season.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I now wish it had been a limited series. The debut offered a richly imaginative setup, 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 (including Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) depicted the survivors in dual eras. Numerous awards recognition occurred, and the showrunners proudly announced there would be five seasons to tell the story in necessary detail. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. I felt grateful as a viewer.

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

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 narrative expanded unnecessarily. A fatiguing tendency emerged of introducing peripheral figures (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It's aggravating, and witnessing a great series decline into annoyance is disheartening.

A Common Phenomenon

Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Programs including Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things have lost the shock of the new, 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. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, producers recognize appropriate conclusion points. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, first conceived as self-contained, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Ideal Model

I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, living rent-free in our imaginations, mysteries intact. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. The classic teen series, the quintessential youth program, lasted for only one season yet felt epic in scale: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the dialogue was untethered from the normal “teen speak written by a 35-year-old” trope. The conclusion provided no neat resolution, 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. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Special Relationship

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

• Priya Elan covers entertainment and style.