Shows Including Stranger Things and The Survival Drama Are Growing Overextended. I Advocate For the One-and-Done Program
It's an all-too-familiar feeling. The second series of your favorite TV show has just begun streaming, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The debut season ended flawlessly: narrative threads were dangled enticingly, and a key figure faced a shocking fate – or did they?. In the months since the finale, you delved into fan discussions with other hardcores to find some Easter egg clues illuminating what would happen next.
And then season two’s premiere is a damp squib. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. In episode two, your favorite cast member has done something that viewers recognize as jarringly uncharacteristic. As the story progresses, it becomes obvious the creators forgot concerning narrative arcs clearly established previously. And by the disappointing finale, you privately hope it had ended sooner.
The Curse of Overextension
Wanting a series to end early is often late realization; most fans protest when their favorite shows are canned before they can get off the ground. Consider Kaos, a clever mythological satire with Jeff Goldblum, which Netflix dropped over poor ratings. However, supporters might find comfort knowing their enjoyment of the series won’t have been muddied by a sophomore slump.
Looking back at the horror-mystery show Yellowjackets, I now wish it had been a limited series. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, 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. Skilled performers (featuring Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. Numerous awards recognition occurred, creators confidently planned five seasons to tell the story in necessary detail. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. This news brought me relief.
Young actors prepare for Stranger Things' next chapter.
Story decisions have weakened the core. Rather than leading with the girls’ return home, and their struggle with traumatic memories, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. 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 Growing Trend
Yet this issue extends beyond Yellowjackets. Programs including Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things no longer surprise audiences, and settled into familiar patterns. Occasionally, series should end on a high note.
Indeed, pleasures exist in single-season stories. Looking at Sharp Objects, I May Destroy You, and Adolescence, writers understand when narratives find completion. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Perhaps Adolescence's team reconsidered a second season.
The Perfect Example
I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, living rent-free in our imaginations, unresolved threads included. My top series ever followed this pattern. The classic teen series, the ideal adolescent show, ran for just one year yet felt epic in scale: the roles were challenging and multifaceted, the filming captured a fall aesthetic, and the scripts transcended typical youth dialogue. The conclusion provided no neat resolution, yet this mirrors real life accurately of never having real, definitive answers to the open-ended questions from your teenage years. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to resolve lingering mysteries. It might only live on an old hard drive, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.
The Special Relationship
If writers recall the sacred audience-series connection, more shows can end gracefully.
- The author covers entertainment and style.
