This scenario is painfully common. Season two of your beloved TV show drops on your platform, and you're brimming with anticipation. The initial run ended so perfectly: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a protagonist met a mysterious end – or so it seemed. In the months since the finale, you delved into fan discussions with fellow enthusiasts to decode subtle references shedding light on future developments.
And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. By the next installment, your favorite cast member has done something that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. Halfway through the season, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. And by the disappointing finale, you long for an earlier termination.
The Curse of Prolonged Runs
Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Consider Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody starring Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. However, supporters might find comfort knowing the program avoided a disappointing second season.
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. A 1996 plane crash strands a female soccer team in wilderness. Skilled performers (including Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. Numerous awards recognition occurred, and the showrunners proudly announced there would be five seasons to develop the plot thoroughly. But last week, it was announced that it would end with season four. And as a fan, I let out a sigh of relief.
Young actors prepare for Stranger Things' next chapter.
Plot twists have diluted the essence. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and their coping with awful experiences, we were taken in directions that bloated the original premise. That included the show’s tiring habit of highlighting added personalities (including the flat character Callie) who did nothing for the broader story. It's aggravating, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.
A Growing Trend
But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things have lost the shock of the new, and embraced predictable tropes. Sometimes shows need to quit when they are ahead.
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, originally a limited series, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.
The Supreme Instance
I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, occupying our minds endlessly, mysteries intact. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. My So-Called Life, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, ran for just one year yet felt epic in scale: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the dialogue was untethered from the normal “teen speak written by a 35-year-old” trope. The ending left questions unanswered, but this reflects truth appropriately of youth queries staying forever open. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), I was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself to answer some of those questions. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.
The Unique Connection
If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more programmes can bow out when the time is right.
- The author focuses on cultural topics.
