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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. The second series of your beloved TV show drops on your platform, and optimism runs high. The initial run ended so perfectly: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). During the hiatus, you scoured online forums with other hardcores to find some Easter egg clues illuminating what would happen next.

And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. By the next installment, a beloved actor's character acts in a way that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. As the story progresses, the writers appear to have memory loss regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Downside 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. Take Kaos, a delightfully satirical take on Greek mythology featuring Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. Yet audiences can console themselves that 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. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, with ten flawless installments. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Skilled performers (including Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) depicted the survivors in dual eras. Several prize nominations followed, 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.

The show has made narrative choices that have undermined its heart. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and their struggle with traumatic memories, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. A fatiguing tendency emerged of bringing in and focusing on new characters (including the flat character Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It’s frustrating, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

An Increasing Pattern

Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Shows such as Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and settled into familiar patterns. Sometimes shows need to quit when they are ahead.

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, producers recognize appropriate conclusion points. However, the magic fades with series like Big Little Lies, originally a limited series, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.

The Supreme Instance

I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, living rent-free in our imaginations, cliffhangers and all. My top series ever followed this pattern. My So-Called Life, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, concluded after a single run yet felt epic in scale: 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 conclusion provided no neat resolution, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of never having real, definitive answers to the open-ended questions from your teenage years. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I felt devastated and created my own continuation to address unfinished business. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.

The Unique Connection

If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more series can conclude appropriately.

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