top of page

Why you don't want your favorite show to go on forever


Orphan Black season 5 poster

I think it's only fitting that my first post discusses one of my longest-held beliefs about television shows, serials and procedurals alike. Though this discussion could originate from any number of topics, this particular iteration stems from my reaction to a Facebook post, a comment added to the fifth (and final) season trailer for Orphan Black, which I will tell you straight up is probably my favorite show to date. The comment is as follows:

"Why would you end a show that is so loved with an incredible cast and incredibly talented actress....makes no sense. Surely the story could keep going somehow..."

Now, my heart wholly agrees with this comment, to the point that I wish the show could go on forever. But my TV-obsessed mind knows better.

I have determined a five-season-maximum rule with a friend, which basically goes, "once a show has had five seasons, it will only get worse." Our theory is this—there is only so much development a character can achieve, only so much plot a fictional world can handle, and once a show has reached the five-season mark, its characters and/or world cannot help but decline in quality. Of course, criticizing shows for continuing past their due dates is nothing new. The infamous term "jumping the shark," as this Rolling Stone article explains, "signals a pivot point in which a writers' room starts resorting to desperate measures to maintain viewers' interest." But I don't have the need to identify the specific scene in which a show meets its useful end, nor do I hope for a show to get to that point in the first place. I truly believe that if TV series would just conclude after no more than five seasons, they'd be better off, at least in terms of viewer satisfaction.

It's just been my experience that after shows hit that five-season mark, they begin to stretch to find bigger and badder villains, conceive still-meaningful and organic plots, or devise necessary and conforming character development. The most annoying example of this is when the leading couple on a show, the two people whose romantic tension is the foundation of every episode, suddenly break up after finally getting together. But the fact that source material is running thin past five seasons can be revealed by any number of issues: over-the-top plotlines, incongruous characterizations, and/or discordant new characters (added because the once-fantastic main cast has gotten stale, or its members have gotten bored and left to pursue other projects). I'm well aware that many scripted series have had strong viewership through ten seasons and beyond (congrats, Simpsons), but I urge you to ask yourself, did these shows add anything meaningful in those 6+ seasons? Did they continue to get better? Would you rank any of those seasons in, say, your top five?

David Boreanaz and Emily Deschanel on Bones / Fox
Sorry Bones, we can't get married because a homicidal maniac threatened to kill five people if I accept your proposal... but at least I'm not already married to someone else, Angela.

Here's a list of shows that I, too, loyally watched through the series finale...only to end up wishing I hadn't (from newest to oldest): The Good Wife, True Blood, Dexter, House, Lost, Charmed, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This list doesn't even include the shows I had to give up on mid-series due to their repetitive or retrograde plotting, like Bones, Smallville, Supernatural, Grey's Anatomy, Gilmore Girls, and soon-to-be Arrow. I understand those of you who are taken aback that I would list one of your favorite shows up here. Look, I love Buffy as much as the next Whedon fan, but I can admit that there were near-entire seasons that were turds (I'm lookin' at you, seasons 4 and 6). Even the almost-perfect Parks and Recreation had to resort to a peculiar three-year time jump in order to add intrigue to its final 5+ season (not counting the first season, obviously). In these and many other shows, ask yourself: did a final reveal really have to wait so long to come to fruition? Are there entire seasons you could skip (or wish you had) without a notable loss of continuity? Does the premise or protagonist still hold the same amount of appeal as when you started watching?

In contrast, consider the success of shows that concluded after five seasons: Breaking Bad, The Wire, Alias, Person of Interest, Merlin, and of course, Orphan Black. Sure, in some cases network pressure may have had an impact, but these shows recognized that they had taken their stories as far as they could without dipping into repetitiveness or extremeness, and they chose to go out on their own terms. When I look back on past seasons of Orphan Black, I am happy to say that each adds major, meaningful information to the clones' world and/or origin story: season one introduces us to our favorite self-aware clones and the dangers they face, season two delves deeper into Dyad and other factions looking to exploit the clones' DNA, season three widens the clone-scope with Project Castor, season four's "down the rabbit hole" reexamined the show's premise (pre-Sarah) and made a breakthrough with the Leda cure, and the currently airing final season looks to unveil once and for all the clones' origin story within Neolution. There are endless reasons to love this show, but one is its showrunners knowing when their story has run its course. Even if there are some unanswered questions after the finale, I trust that its five years of development has given me the ability to predict how my beloved characters would live on.

It all comes down to quality over quantity. And while I denote the maximum limit for worthy shows to be 5, series with anywhere from 1-4 seasons have achieved the same completeness (or, alternatively, can go off the rails in that same time—ahem, Heroes). I would always prefer that a show quit while it's ahead rather than risk going a season too long and making me hate the quirks and catch phrases and comic relief characters I once loved—what my same friend calls going from character to caricature. Similarly, to my fellow sci-fi fans out there, we've probably all seen the effects of superfluous mythology or backstory (ahem, Lost...and yeah, still Heroes). All I'm saying is, once the time clock has run down, let the players leave the field. Let the story end naturally, whether that's after one season, two seasons, five seasons, or even (though highly unlikely) more. Leave us wanting more. I don't know if I have yet seen a show which has perfectly timed this satisfying-but-not-wholly-conclusive ending, letting the characters say goodbye right as I start to wave. Perhaps there is no perfect time, or maybe I wouldn't recognize it when it came. But I do know that I've never seen a show end too early (cancellations notwithstanding).

Matthew Fox on Lost / ABC
Wait...which Jack is this again? The flash-forward, flash-back, or flash-sideways one?

If you asked me right now, I would say that I want to see Sarah and Cosima and Allison and Helena and Felix on my TV screen forever, too. And I would continue to think that until I heard the eighth or eleventh season was coming out, and sigh, knowing that the story had become too drawn-out, too far-fetched, too dull—or worse, caricatured—and I would long for its first five years, when everything was new and had purpose. And that purpose was to tell a story which happened to entertain, not entertain me endlessly with something that happened to be a story.

So to anyone who agrees with that Facebook post, I get it. I see the appeal. And you're right—the story could keep going. But knowing what that would mean, the sacrifices this terrific show (and others like it) would have to make, I wouldn't want it to.

Ask yourselves, Clone Club: do you want Orphan Black to keep the focus on the sisterhood? On Cosima's search for a cure? Sarah's search for her and Beth's past? Allison's search for just the right wine/cheese pairing? Or do you want these 5-year build-ups to be resolved and replaced with forced, less compelling problems? I know we've been programmed to always want more, to expect 8+ seasons (or the traction-gaining "six seasons and a movie"), but I for one believe this is the right way. Do not, as it goes, prolong the show's life once its core has been depleted. I admire Orphan Black all the more for refusing to undergo the Hollywood, watch-it-until-you-hate-it philosophy. (Though I swear to god, if Tatiana hadn't won that Emmy, I would support them churning out seasons until the academy had to recognize her).

OB Showrunners Graeme Mason and John Fawcett have said that season five is the show's natural conclusion, and I respect that. All things must end—the good, the bad, the in-between. But I don't want endless Orphan Black episodes any more than I want endless buffets or milkshakes or massages. I want to finish the meal I started and leave, empty-handed but full-stomached. If it was that good, I will come back and partake again, or see what else that chef can cook up. I'll follow these writers and actors on to their next projects, and hope to be pulled into a similarly engaging story. To me, that makes all the sense in the world.

Tatiana Maslany on Orphan Black / BBC America

*Update: Vlogger Just Write gets at a similar idea in his video "The Pain of Falling Out of Love with a Story," about season 7 of Game of Thrones.

Recent Posts

See All

Submission success!

bottom of page