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This scenario is painfully common. The second series of your beloved TV show has just begun streaming, and you're brimming with anticipation. The initial run ended flawlessly: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. After the season wrapped, you scoured online forums with fellow enthusiasts to decode subtle references shedding light on future developments.

Unfortunately, the return episode disappoints. It feels like the entire writers’ room has been fired and replaced by artificial intelligence. By the next installment, a beloved actor's character acts in a way that viewers recognize as jarringly uncharacteristic. Halfway through the season, it becomes obvious the creators forgot concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. And by the disappointing finale, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Downside of Prolonged Runs

Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Look at Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody starring Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge their enjoyment of the series won’t have been muddied by a sophomore slump.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I now wish it had been a limited series. 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. Excellent actors (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. Several prize nominations followed, producers originally mapped out a five-season arc to tell the story in necessary detail. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. I felt grateful as a viewer.

Gaten Matarazzo, Finn Wolfhard, Caleb McLaughlin and Noah Schnapp in the forthcoming fifth season of Stranger Things.

Story decisions have weakened the core. In place of exploring post-rescue life, and watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, the story grew padded and excessive. That included the show’s tiring habit of bringing in and focusing on new characters (including the flat character Callie) who added little to the overarching plot. It's aggravating, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

A Common Phenomenon

Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things lack original impact, 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. Considering Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, TV creators know when to stop when the story has naturally reached an endpoint. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, originally a limited series, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Supreme Instance

I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, living rent-free in our imaginations, mysteries intact. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. My So-Called Life, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, concluded after a single run but achieved film-like breadth: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the dialogue was untethered from the normal “teen speak written by a 35-year-old” trope. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, 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 answer some of those questions. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.

The Sacred Bond

If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more shows can end gracefully.

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