It's an all-too-familiar feeling. Season two of your favorite TV show premieres online, and optimism runs high. Season one ended flawlessly: 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 decode subtle references shedding light on future developments.
Unfortunately, the return episode disappoints. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. Cut to the second episode, a beloved actor's character acts in a way that you and Reddit user Fishy2345 agree is totally out of character. Halfway through the season, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you privately hope it had ended sooner.
Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. 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 show's quality wasn't tarnished by a weak follow-up.
Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. The debut offered a richly imaginative setup, with ten flawless installments. In 1996, a plane carrying an all-girl high school football team crashes in the middle of nowhere. Excellent actors (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 fully explore the narrative. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. And as a fan, I let out a sigh of relief.
The Stranger Things cast returns for season five.
Story decisions have weakened the core. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and their coping with awful experiences, the story grew padded and excessive. 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 disappointing, and as a viewer, it is depressing to see your favorite show morph slowly into a hate-watch.
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 settled into familiar patterns. Sometimes shows need to quit when they are ahead.
Actually, benefits come from self-contained series. Considering Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, producers recognize appropriate conclusion points. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, first conceived as self-contained, return repeatedly with declining quality. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.
I preferred Yellowjackets as a limited run, occupying our minds endlessly, cliffhangers and all. My top series ever followed this pattern. This beloved 90s drama, the quintessential youth program, concluded after a single run yet felt epic in scale: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the conversations avoided cliched adolescent writing. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, but this reflects truth appropriately of youth queries staying forever open. 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 shows how series resonate profoundly.
If TV creators can remember the sacrosanct relationship between viewers and shows, more shows can end gracefully.
Escritora y analista cultural con experiencia en medios internacionales, apasionada por explorar cómo las ideas locales impactan en el mundo.
