Many viewers know this disappointment. Season two of your favorite TV show drops on your platform, and you're brimming with anticipation. The debut season ended so perfectly: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, 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 illuminating what would happen next.
But the new season opener falls flat. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. Cut to the second episode, a key performer makes a choice that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. Halfway through the season, the writers appear to have memory loss around the storylines aggressively signposted in season one. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you long for an earlier termination.
Wishing for cancellation can only be retrospective; viewers usually oppose premature cancellations. Look at Kaos, a delightfully satirical take on Greek mythology 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.
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. In 1996, a plane carrying an all-girl high school football team crashes in the middle of nowhere. Excellent actors (featuring Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) played the characters across timelines. Several prize nominations followed, creators confidently planned five seasons to fully explore the narrative. However, a season four finale was just confirmed. And as a fan, I let out a sigh of relief.
Gaten Matarazzo, Finn Wolfhard, Caleb McLaughlin and Noah Schnapp in the forthcoming fifth season of Stranger Things.
Plot twists have diluted the essence. Instead of focusing on the survivors' reintegration, and watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, we were taken in directions that bloated the original premise. That included the show’s tiring habit of bringing in and focusing on new characters (such as Shauna’s two-dimensional daughter Callie) with minimal impact on the main narrative. It’s frustrating, and witnessing a great series decline into annoyance is disheartening.
However, Yellowjackets isn't alone. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and embraced predictable tropes. Occasionally, series should end on a high note.
The thing is, there are joys to be had in a limited, “one-and-done” series. Considering Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, TV creators know when to stop when the story has naturally reached an endpoint. But the game is over when shows such as 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, residing permanently in our thoughts, unresolved threads included. My top series ever followed this pattern. This beloved 90s drama, the ideal adolescent show, concluded after a single run but achieved film-like breadth: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the cinematography was perfectly autumnal, and the dialogue was untethered from the normal “teen speak written by a 35-year-old” trope. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, but this reflects truth appropriately of adolescent uncertainties remaining perpetual. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I felt devastated and created my own continuation to answer some of those questions. Though stored on outdated technology, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.
If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more series can conclude appropriately.
