This scenario is painfully common. The second series of your beloved TV show has just begun streaming, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The initial run ended with such precision: 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 other hardcores to uncover hidden hints 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 viewers recognize as jarringly uncharacteristic. As the story progresses, the writers appear to have memory loss regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you privately hope it had ended sooner.
The Curse of Overextension
Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Look at Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody with Jeff Goldblum, axed by Netflix because of weak audience numbers. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge 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, with ten flawless installments. In 1996, a plane carrying an all-girl high school football team crashes in the middle of nowhere. Skilled performers (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. There were multiple award nominations, producers originally mapped out a five-season arc to tell the story in necessary detail. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. I felt grateful as a viewer.
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 watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, the story grew padded and excessive. This involved a wearying pattern of bringing in and focusing on new characters (such as Shauna’s two-dimensional daughter Callie) who added little to the overarching plot. It's disappointing, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.
A Common Phenomenon
But it’s not only Yellowjackets. Shows such as Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things lack original impact, and embraced predictable tropes. At times, programs must stop while successful.
Actually, benefits come from self-contained 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, first conceived as self-contained, extend endlessly with reduced impact. Hopefully, Adolescence’s producers have thought twice about that rumoured season two.
The Supreme Instance
I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, residing permanently in our thoughts, cliffhangers and all. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. My So-Called Life, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, lasted for only one season yet felt epic in scale: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. The conclusion provided no neat resolution, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. Following 18 excellent installments (plus one weak one), I was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself to address unfinished business. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, it shows how series resonate profoundly.
The Sacred Bond
If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more shows can end gracefully.
- This writer focuses on cultural topics.
