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This scenario is painfully common. Season two of your beloved TV show has just begun streaming, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. Season one ended with such precision: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). During the hiatus, you scoured online forums with dedicated fans to uncover hidden hints 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, your favorite cast member has done something that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. As the story progresses, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you long for an earlier termination.

The Curse of Too Many Seasons

Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; most fans protest when their favorite shows are canned before they can get off the ground. Look at Kaos, a delightfully satirical take on Greek mythology with 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.

Looking back at the horror-mystery show Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, and every episode hit the right marks. Aircraft disaster leaves a teen girls' team isolated in 1996. Excellent actors (featuring Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) played the characters across timelines. There were multiple award nominations, producers originally mapped out a five-season arc to develop the plot thoroughly. But last week, it was announced that it would end with season four. And as a fan, I let out a sigh of relief.

Young actors prepare for Stranger Things' next chapter.

The show has made narrative choices that have undermined its heart. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and their coping with awful experiences, the story grew padded and excessive. This involved a wearying pattern 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

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 settled into familiar patterns. Occasionally, series should end on a high note.

Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. Considering Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, writers understand when narratives find completion. However, the magic fades with series like Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, return repeatedly with declining quality. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Perfect Example

I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, living rent-free in our imaginations, unresolved threads included. My favorite TV show of all time has played out like that. The classic teen series, the ideal adolescent show, ran for just one year but was cinematic in its scope: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the conversations avoided cliched adolescent writing. The ending left questions unanswered, yet this mirrors real life accurately of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I felt devastated and created my own continuation to answer some of those questions. It might only live on an old hard drive, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Special Relationship

When producers honor the special viewer-program bond, more shows can end gracefully.

• This writer covers entertainment and style.