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It's an all-too-familiar feeling. The follow-up season of your top TV show premieres online, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. Season one ended so perfectly: future plotlines were teased tantalisingly, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). In the months since the finale, you delved into fan discussions with fellow enthusiasts to find some Easter egg clues pointing toward upcoming twists.

But the new season opener falls flat. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. Cut to the second episode, a key performer makes a choice that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. By episode five, the writers appear to have memory loss regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you long for an earlier termination.

The Pitfall of Overextension

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; most fans protest when their favorite shows are canned before they can get off the ground. Look at Kaos, a clever mythological satire featuring Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. Yet audiences can console themselves that the show's quality wasn't tarnished by a weak follow-up.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, and every episode hit the right marks. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Top-notch cast members (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) depicted the survivors in dual eras. Several prize nominations followed, and the showrunners proudly announced there would be five seasons to tell the story in necessary detail. But last week, it was announced that it would end with season four. I felt grateful as a viewer.

Young actors prepare for Stranger Things' next chapter.

The show has made narrative choices that have undermined its heart. In place of exploring post-rescue life, and their coping with awful experiences, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. That included the show’s tiring habit 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 frustrating, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.

An Increasing Pattern

However, Yellowjackets isn't alone. Shows such as Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and fallen headfirst into expected or comfortable cliches. Occasionally, series should end on a high note.

Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. Considering Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and 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, initially a one-season story, return repeatedly with declining quality. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.

The Supreme Instance

I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, residing permanently in our thoughts, cliffhangers and all. 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 roles were challenging and multifaceted, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. The ending left questions unanswered, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality 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, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.

The Sacred Bond

If TV creators can remember the sacrosanct relationship between viewers and shows, more series can conclude appropriately.

• The author covers entertainment and style.