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Many viewers know this disappointment. The follow-up season of your favorite TV show premieres online, and optimism runs high. Season one 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 decode subtle references shedding light on future developments.

But the new season opener falls flat. It feels like the entire writers’ room has been fired and replaced by artificial intelligence. In episode two, your favorite cast member has done something that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. As the story progresses, it becomes obvious the creators forgot concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. And by the disappointing finale, you long for an earlier termination.

The Downside of Too Many Seasons

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; most fans protest when their favorite shows are canned before they can get off the ground. Take Kaos, a clever mythological satire featuring Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. Yet audiences can console themselves that their enjoyment of the series won’t have been muddied by a sophomore slump.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. The debut offered a richly imaginative setup, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. Aircraft disaster leaves a teen girls' team isolated in 1996. Skilled performers (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) played the characters across timelines. There were multiple award nominations, and the showrunners proudly announced there would be five seasons to fully explore the narrative. But last week, it was announced that it would end with season four. I felt grateful as a viewer.

Young actors prepare for Stranger Things' next chapter.

Story decisions have weakened the core. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, we were taken in directions that bloated the original premise. This involved a wearying pattern of introducing peripheral figures (including the flat character Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It's aggravating, and witnessing a great series decline into annoyance is disheartening.

A Growing Trend

Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Programs including 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. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, producers recognize appropriate conclusion points. Yet the spell breaks for programs including Big Little Lies, first conceived as self-contained, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.

The Supreme Instance

I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, occupying our minds endlessly, cliffhangers and all. My favorite TV show of all time has played out like that. My So-Called Life, the quintessential youth program, lasted for only one season but was cinematic in its scope: its characters were difficult and contradictory, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of never having real, definitive answers to the open-ended questions from your teenage years. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to address unfinished business. It might only live on an old hard drive, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.

The Unique Connection

If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more series can conclude appropriately.

• This writer writes about the arts, music and fashion.