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Many viewers know this disappointment. The second series of your beloved TV show has just begun streaming, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. Season one ended with such precision: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. In the months since the finale, you delved into fan discussions with fellow enthusiasts to decode subtle references illuminating what would happen next.

And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. Cut to the second episode, a beloved actor's character acts in a way that viewers recognize as jarringly uncharacteristic. As the story progresses, the writers appear to have memory loss concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. And by the disappointing finale, you privately hope it had ended sooner.

The Pitfall of Overextension

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Look at Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody with Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge the program avoided a disappointing second season.

Looking back at the horror-mystery show Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, with ten flawless installments. Aircraft disaster leaves a teen girls' team isolated in 1996. Skilled performers (featuring Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. There were multiple award nominations, producers originally mapped out a five-season arc 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.

The Stranger Things cast returns for season five.

The show has made narrative choices that have undermined its heart. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and their struggle with traumatic memories, we were taken in directions that bloated the original premise. A fatiguing tendency emerged of introducing peripheral figures (including the flat character Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It's aggravating, and witnessing a great series decline into annoyance is disheartening.

A Common Phenomenon

However, Yellowjackets isn't alone. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and settled into familiar patterns. 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, writers understand when narratives find completion. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, originally a limited series, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Hopefully, Adolescence’s producers have thought twice about that rumoured season two.

The Supreme Instance

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, residing permanently in our thoughts, unresolved threads included. My top series ever followed this pattern. The classic teen series, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, lasted for only one season yet felt epic in scale: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, but this reflects truth appropriately of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. After 18 perfect episodes (and one dodgy one), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to answer some of those questions. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, 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.

• Priya Elan writes about the arts, music and fashion.