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This scenario is painfully common. The follow-up season of your favorite TV show has just begun streaming, and you're brimming with anticipation. Season one ended flawlessly: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). During the hiatus, you delved into fan discussions with other hardcores to find some Easter egg clues shedding light on future developments.

But the new season opener falls flat. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. 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 becomes obvious the creators forgot regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you privately hope it had ended sooner.

The Curse of Overextension

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Take Kaos, a clever mythological satire featuring Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. However, supporters might find comfort knowing the show's quality wasn't tarnished by a weak follow-up.

Considering the thriller Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. The first season boasted an inventive concept, with ten flawless installments. In 1996, a plane carrying an all-girl high school football team crashes in the middle of nowhere. Top-notch cast members (including Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. There were multiple award nominations, creators confidently planned five seasons 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.

Story decisions have weakened the core. In place of exploring post-rescue life, and watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, we were taken in directions that bloated the original premise. A fatiguing tendency emerged of introducing peripheral figures (such as Shauna’s two-dimensional daughter Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It's aggravating, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

A Growing Trend

Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and fallen headfirst into expected or comfortable cliches. Sometimes shows need to quit when they are ahead.

Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, TV creators know when to stop when the story has naturally reached an endpoint. Yet the spell breaks for programs including Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.

The Supreme Instance

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, living rent-free in our imaginations, cliffhangers and all. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. This beloved 90s drama, the ideal adolescent show, ran for just one year but achieved film-like breadth: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the conversations avoided cliched adolescent writing. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of youth queries staying forever open. After 18 perfect episodes (and one dodgy one), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to resolve lingering mysteries. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Unique Connection

If TV creators can remember the sacrosanct relationship between viewers and shows, more programmes can bow out when the time is right.

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