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This scenario is painfully common. The second series of your top TV show has just begun streaming, and you're brimming with anticipation. The initial run ended with such precision: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a key figure faced a shocking fate – or did they?. During the hiatus, you delved into fan discussions with dedicated fans to decode subtle references illuminating what would happen next.

Unfortunately, the return episode disappoints. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. Cut to the second episode, your favorite cast member has done something that viewers recognize as jarringly uncharacteristic. Halfway through the season, it becomes obvious the creators forgot around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. And by the disappointing finale, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Downside of Too Many Seasons

Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Take Kaos, a clever mythological satire starring 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 now wish it had been a limited series. The first season boasted an inventive concept, and every episode hit the right marks. 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. Numerous awards recognition occurred, creators confidently planned five seasons to develop the plot thoroughly. But last week, it was announced that it would end with season four. This news brought me relief.

The Stranger Things cast returns for season five.

Story decisions have weakened the core. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and their coping with awful experiences, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. A fatiguing tendency emerged of bringing in and focusing on new characters (such as Shauna’s two-dimensional daughter Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It's disappointing, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

A Common Phenomenon

Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Programs including 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.

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, writers understand when narratives find completion. However, the magic fades with series like Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, return repeatedly with declining quality. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Ideal Model

I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, living rent-free in our imaginations, cliffhangers and all. My top series ever followed this pattern. The classic teen series, the quintessential youth program, lasted for only one season yet felt epic in scale: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the conversations avoided cliched adolescent writing. The conclusion provided no neat resolution, but this reflects truth appropriately of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself to answer some of those questions. It might only live on an old hard drive, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.

The Sacred Bond

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.