It's an all-too-familiar feeling. Season two of your top TV show drops on your platform, and optimism runs high. Season one ended so perfectly: upcoming stories were hinted at provocatively, and a main character had – cliffhanger! – been offed (or had they?). In the months since the finale, you were perusing Reddit threads with fellow enthusiasts to find some Easter egg clues shedding light on future developments.
Unfortunately, the return episode disappoints. The writing appears robotic and uninspired. Cut to the second episode, your favorite cast member has done something that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. By episode five, it becomes obvious the creators forgot concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. As the underwhelming ending arrives, you privately hope it had ended sooner.
Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Consider Kaos, a delightfully satirical take on Greek mythology starring Jeff Goldblum, which Netflix dropped over poor ratings. However, supporters might find comfort knowing the program avoided a disappointing second season.
Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I prefer it had remained a self-contained narrative. The debut offered a richly imaginative setup, and its 10 episodes were note-perfect. 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) 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. However, a season four finale was just confirmed. I felt grateful as a viewer.
Gaten Matarazzo, Finn Wolfhard, Caleb McLaughlin and Noah Schnapp in the forthcoming fifth season of Stranger Things.
Story decisions have weakened the core. In place of exploring post-rescue life, and watching how they deal with their horrific new secrets, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. A fatiguing tendency emerged 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 aggravating, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.
However, Yellowjackets isn't alone. Series like Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things have lost the shock of the new, and fallen headfirst into expected or comfortable cliches. At times, programs must stop while successful.
Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, writers understand when narratives find completion. Yet the spell breaks for programs including Big Little Lies, first conceived as self-contained, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.
I wish Yellowjackets could have been a one-and-done series, residing permanently in our thoughts, cliffhangers and all. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. This beloved 90s drama, the perfect 90s teen dramedy, lasted for only one season but achieved film-like breadth: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the conversations avoided cliched adolescent writing. The conclusion provided no neat resolution, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of never having real, definitive answers to the open-ended questions from your teenage years. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I was heartbroken and took to writing season two fan fiction myself to resolve lingering mysteries. Though stored on outdated technology, but it speaks to how deeply TV shows can chime with us.
When producers honor the special viewer-program bond, more shows can end gracefully.
Urban planner and writer passionate about sustainable city development and community engagement.