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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. Season two of your beloved TV show premieres online, and optimism runs high. The initial run ended with such precision: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). In the months since the finale, you delved into fan discussions with other hardcores to find some Easter egg clues 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. By the next installment, 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 regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. And by the disappointing finale, you privately hope it had ended sooner.

The Curse of Overextension

Wanting a series to end early is often late realization; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Take Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody featuring Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge the show's quality wasn't tarnished by a weak follow-up.

Considering the thriller Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. The first season boasted an inventive concept, with ten flawless installments. Aircraft disaster leaves a teen girls' team isolated in 1996. Skilled performers (including Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. There were multiple award nominations, creators confidently planned five seasons to develop the plot thoroughly. However, a season four finale was just confirmed. 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.

The show has made narrative choices that have undermined its heart. In place of exploring post-rescue life, and their coping with awful experiences, the story grew padded and excessive. That included the show’s tiring habit of highlighting added personalities (including the flat character Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It’s frustrating, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

An Increasing Pattern

But it’s not only 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.

The thing is, there are joys to be had in a limited, “one-and-done” series. From Sharp Objects to I May Destroy You to Adolescence, producers recognize appropriate conclusion points. However, the magic fades with series like Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Supreme Instance

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, occupying our minds endlessly, unresolved threads included. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. The classic teen series, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, lasted for only one season 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 adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to resolve lingering mysteries. Though stored on outdated technology, it shows how series resonate profoundly.

The Sacred Bond

If TV creators can remember the sacrosanct relationship between viewers and shows, more shows can end gracefully.

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