🔗 Share this article

This scenario is painfully common. The second series of your beloved TV show has just begun streaming, and you're brimming with anticipation. The initial run ended so perfectly: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. After the season wrapped, you were perusing Reddit threads with other hardcores to uncover hidden hints illuminating what would happen next.

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, a key performer makes a choice that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. By episode five, it becomes obvious the creators forgot around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. And by the disappointing finale, you long for an earlier termination.

The Pitfall of Overextension

Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Consider Kaos, a delightfully satirical take on Greek mythology featuring Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. Yet audiences can console themselves that 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 every episode hit the right marks. In 1996, a plane carrying an all-girl high school football team crashes in the middle of nowhere. Excellent actors (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. Several prize nominations followed, and the showrunners proudly announced there would be five seasons to fully explore the narrative. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. 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.

Plot twists have diluted the essence. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. A fatiguing tendency emerged of introducing peripheral figures (including the flat character Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It’s frustrating, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

A Growing Trend

Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Series like 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. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, TV creators know when to stop when the story has naturally reached an endpoint. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, originally a limited series, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.

The Supreme Instance

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, residing permanently in our thoughts, cliffhangers and all. My top series ever followed this pattern. My So-Called Life, the ideal adolescent show, concluded after a single run but achieved film-like breadth: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, 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 resolve lingering mysteries. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Sacred Bond

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

• Priya Elan covers entertainment and style.