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Many viewers know this disappointment. The follow-up season of your favorite TV show has just begun streaming, and you're brimming with anticipation. Season one ended so perfectly: future plotlines were teased tantalisingly, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. During the hiatus, you delved into fan discussions with fellow enthusiasts to find some Easter egg clues pointing toward upcoming twists.

And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. By the next installment, your favorite cast member has done something that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. Halfway through the season, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. And by the disappointing finale, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Downside of Overextension

Wanting a series to end early is often late realization; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Look at Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody with Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. However, supporters might find comfort knowing the program avoided a disappointing second season.

Considering the thriller Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. The first season boasted an inventive concept, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. 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. Several prize nominations followed, and the showrunners proudly announced there would be five seasons to tell the story in necessary detail. 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 watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, the story grew padded and excessive. A fatiguing tendency emerged of introducing peripheral figures (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It's disappointing, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

A Common Phenomenon

But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Shows such as Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and fallen headfirst into expected or comfortable cliches. Occasionally, series should end on a high note.

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, writers understand when narratives find completion. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, return repeatedly with declining quality. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Ideal Model

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, occupying our minds endlessly, cliffhangers and all. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. This beloved 90s drama, the ideal adolescent show, concluded after a single run but was cinematic in its scope: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, 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 never having real, definitive answers to the open-ended questions from your teenage years. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to resolve lingering mysteries. It might only live on an old hard drive, 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 writes about the arts, music and fashion.