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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. The second series of your top TV show premieres online, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The initial run ended with such precision: future plotlines were teased tantalisingly, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. During the hiatus, you delved into fan discussions with other hardcores to decode subtle references pointing toward upcoming twists.

But the new season opener falls flat. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. In episode two, your favorite cast member has done something that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. As the story progresses, it becomes obvious the creators forgot around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Curse 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. Consider Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody featuring Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge their enjoyment of the series won’t have been muddied by a sophomore slump.

Looking back at the horror-mystery show Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. The first season boasted an inventive concept, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Skilled performers (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) depicted the survivors in dual eras. Numerous awards recognition occurred, creators confidently planned five seasons to fully explore the narrative. 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.

Plot twists have diluted the essence. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and their struggle with traumatic memories, we were taken in directions that bloated the original premise. That included the show’s tiring habit of highlighting added personalities (like the underdeveloped 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.

An Increasing Pattern

But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Programs including Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things lack original impact, and embraced predictable tropes. Sometimes shows need to quit when they are ahead.

Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. From Sharp Objects to I May Destroy You to Adolescence, producers recognize appropriate conclusion points. Yet the spell breaks for programs including Big Little Lies, originally a limited series, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Perfect Example

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, living rent-free in our imaginations, unresolved threads included. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. The classic teen series, the ideal adolescent show, concluded after a single run but achieved film-like breadth: its characters were difficult and contradictory, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the dialogue was untethered from the normal “teen speak written by a 35-year-old” trope. The ending left questions unanswered, but this reflects truth appropriately of never having real, definitive answers to the open-ended questions from your teenage years. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), I felt devastated and created my own continuation to address unfinished business. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.

The Special Relationship

When producers honor the special viewer-program bond, more programmes can bow out when the time is right.

• Priya Elan covers entertainment and style.