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Many viewers know this disappointment. The follow-up season of your top TV show premieres online, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The debut season ended so perfectly: future plotlines were teased tantalisingly, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. After the season wrapped, you delved into fan discussions with other hardcores to find some Easter egg clues illuminating what would happen next.

But the new season opener falls flat. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. In episode two, a beloved actor's character acts in a way that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. As the story progresses, the writers appear to have memory loss around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. And by the disappointing finale, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Curse of Too Many Seasons

Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Consider Kaos, a clever mythological satire featuring Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. However, supporters might find comfort knowing the program avoided a disappointing second season.

Looking back at the horror-mystery show Yellowjackets, I currently desire it was a one-season story. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, and every episode hit the right marks. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Top-notch cast members (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) played the characters across timelines. Numerous awards recognition occurred, creators confidently planned five seasons to tell the story in necessary detail. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. 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 narrative expanded unnecessarily. That included the show’s tiring habit of introducing peripheral figures (including the flat character Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It's disappointing, 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 lack original impact, and settled into familiar patterns. At times, programs must stop while successful.

Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, writers understand when narratives find completion. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Supreme Instance

I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, occupying our minds endlessly, 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 achieved film-like breadth: its characters were difficult and contradictory, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. The conclusion provided no neat resolution, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to address unfinished business. It might only live on an old hard drive, it shows how series resonate profoundly.

The Sacred Bond

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

• The author focuses on cultural topics.