Many viewers know this disappointment. Season two of your favorite TV show has just begun streaming, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The initial run ended flawlessly: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a protagonist met a mysterious end â or so it seemed. After the season wrapped, you delved into fan discussions with fellow enthusiasts to uncover hidden hints illuminating what would happen next.
And then season twoâs premiere is a damp squib. It feels like the entire writersâ room has been fired and replaced by artificial intelligence. In episode two, a key performer makes a choice that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. Halfway through the season, it becomes obvious the creators forgot concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. And by the disappointing finale, you privately hope it had ended sooner.
Wanting a series to end early is often late realization; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Take Kaos, a delightfully satirical take on Greek mythology featuring Jeff Goldblum, which Netflix dropped over poor ratings. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge their enjoyment of the series wonât have been muddied by a sophomore slump.
Looking back at the horror-mystery show Yellowjackets, I currently desire it was a one-season story. The debut offered a richly imaginative setup, with ten flawless installments. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Excellent actors (featuring Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) played the characters across timelines. There were multiple award nominations, and the showrunners proudly announced there would be five seasons to fully explore the narrative. However, a season four finale was just confirmed. This news brought me relief.
The Stranger Things cast returns for season five.
The show has made narrative choices that have undermined its heart. In place of exploring post-rescue life, and their struggle with traumatic memories, we were taken in directions that bloated the original premise. That included the showâs tiring habit of bringing in and focusing on new characters (including the flat character Callie) who added little to the overarching plot. It's disappointing, and witnessing a great series decline into annoyance is disheartening.
However, Yellowjackets isn't alone. 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.
Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. From Sharp Objects to I May Destroy You to Adolescence, TV creators know when to stop when the story has naturally reached an endpoint. Yet the spell breaks for programs including Big Little Lies, originally a limited series, return repeatedly with declining quality. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.
I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, occupying our minds endlessly, unresolved threads included. My favorite TV show of all time has played out like that. My So-Called Life, the ideal adolescent show, lasted for only one season but was cinematic in its scope: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, and the dialogue was untethered from the normal âteen speak written by a 35-year-oldâ trope. The conclusion provided no neat resolution, but this reflects truth appropriately of never having real, definitive answers to the open-ended questions from your teenage years. 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.
When producers honor the special viewer-program bond, more shows can end gracefully.
A tech enthusiast and software developer with over a decade of experience in AI and digital transformation projects.