This scenario is painfully common. The second series of your top TV show premieres online, and optimism runs high. The debut season ended so perfectly: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). After the season wrapped, you scoured online forums with dedicated fans to uncover hidden hints shedding light on future developments.
Unfortunately, the return episode disappoints. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. By the next installment, a key performer makes a choice that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. Halfway through the season, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you privately hope it had ended sooner.
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, a clever mythological satire with Jeff Goldblum, which Netflix dropped over poor ratings. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge the show's quality wasn't tarnished by a weak follow-up.
Considering the thriller Yellowjackets, I now wish it had been a limited series. 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. Top-notch cast members (featuring 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. However, a season four finale was just confirmed. This news brought me relief.
The Stranger Things cast returns for season five.
Story decisions have weakened the core. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and their coping with awful experiences, 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 frustrating, and witnessing a great series decline into annoyance is disheartening.
But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Shows such as Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things have lost the shock of the new, and fallen headfirst into expected or comfortable cliches. At times, programs must stop while successful.
Actually, benefits come from self-contained series. From Sharp Objects to I May Destroy You to Adolescence, writers understand when narratives find completion. 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.
I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, residing permanently in our thoughts, unresolved threads included. My top series ever followed this pattern. This beloved 90s drama, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, concluded after a single run but achieved film-like breadth: its characters were difficult and contradictory, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the conversations avoided cliched adolescent writing. The ending left questions unanswered, yet this mirrors real life accurately of youth queries staying forever open. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to answer some of those questions. Though stored on outdated technology, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.
If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more shows can end gracefully.
A tech strategist with over a decade of experience in digital transformation and business innovation.