TV’s “Wait and See” Approach Isn’t Compelling Storytelling – It’s Just Incomplete

You know what they say: “Patience is a virtue.”

But that’s not the case with television’s frustrating trend of adapting a “wait and see” philosophy to show seasons.

Because there’s nothing wrong with asking viewers to “trust the process,” knowing that the story will eventually take us where we need to be. But when it becomes a crutch, that’s not compelling; it’s unsatisfying.

There is an undeniable shift in TV structuring that has leaned toward appealing to those who spend most of the time flitting from one screen to the next, but that shouldn’t result in this new tactic to ensure people lock into a series.

The implication is often that savvy viewers are either too impatient to dive into the crux of a series or season, or they somehow lack the critical analysis skills to properly engage with the content.

But viewers aren’t asking for instant gratification or easy consumption. They’re asking for seasons that feel complete.

There’s a difference between earning anticipation and withholding satisfaction.

Let’s take the Yellowstone franchise, for example.

Marshals and Dutton Ranch are prime examples of what happens when “wait and see” leads to actual results versus when it doesn’t.

There’s nothing inherently bad about Dutton Ranch. It’s a serviceable enough show, and the follow-up to Rip and Beth’s story was very welcome.

But no matter how many times we engage in these conversations, no one will ever convince me that they didn’t spend the majority of Dutton Ranch Season 1 just taking for granted that loyal viewers would stick around waiting for some big payoff in the end.

I think viewers deserve better than spending an entire season waiting for the story to finally begin.

The acknowledgment that little was happening and that it spent too long building up new characters we had little interest in, without a clear focus on Beth and Rip, was met with the assertion that a larger plan was at play and that we had to be patient.

Well, I patiently sat through the entire first season, and the reality is that the action and meat of the plot didn’t kick in until the Dutton Ranch season finale.

And even that was used to set up the next season. Therein lies one of my biggest frustrations with this trend.

It essentially takes for granted that renewal is on the table and postpones many narratively satisfying possibilities until that upcoming season.

I have no doubt that Dutton Ranch Season 2 will be great — why? Because they basically used the entire first season as a prelude to it.

Essentially, Dutton Ranch‘s debut season feels incomplete — like they chopped it in half and only served up the first half.

The first season isn’t bad, just underwhelming and leaves you wanting. I didn’t need to be manipulated into watching the second season; I just wanted the first one to feel purposeful.

Similarly, and controversially, The Vampire Lestat falls in this boat as well.

The Vampire Lestat Season 1 ultimately feels like the opening act, not the main event.

The season can never in a million years be written off as “bad” by any stretch of the imagination. It’s a remarkably raw exploration of trauma and survival — a particularly gripping, evocative dissection of the myriad effects of sexual trauma on the psyche.

The season also delivers some of the most breathtaking performances from the stars of this series, leaving us to lament that this incredibly talented cast doesn’t get its due in professional spaces.

But one of the many reasons viewers still had trouble connecting with the season, or were frustrated, was precisely that it produced a feeling of everything and nothing happening at once.

The season never strikes the right balance between character analysis and pacing out a plot.

It tips so far into the former while oddly still barely scratching the surface, and all but giving up entirely on the latter while trying to merge the essence of three different books into seven episodes.

Essentially, plot points and context never materialize because they were either offscreen or still to come. Akasha’s shockingly limited presence is a prime example of that.

So not even one of the richest, most complex fantasy horror series of the decade is exempt from the narrative dissatisfaction that comes with the “wait and see” structure.

It’s especially disconcerting, given the series’ penchant for returning only every two years with a mere handful of episodes.

The prevailing sentiment around The Vampire Lestat Season 1 was that everything would come together and make sense by the end of the season.

I’d argue that the finale‘s polarizing reception dispels that. It did not so much close out the season as it did attempt to incentivize people to tune in next season for what amounts to the “real event.”

Most viewers were going to tune in regardless, but it’d be nice if the series didn’t structure entire seasons around that assumption — that implying that what they had spent weeks watching was merely an appetizer, and the next season is the full-course meal.

Like Dutton Ranch, The Vampire Lestat, while a work of art, still felt as if we were presented with a half, transitional season rather than a full one.

In many ways, High Potential has battled a similar approach due to its ever-present Roman mystery that never gets its bearings. Dangling the mystery over our heads would be fine if the payoff were ever satisfying.

But by the end of the season, when we still haven’t so much as seen the man’s face, the “just wait and see” approach to dragging out this story doesn’t build suspense; it aggravates.

High Potential doesn’t actually need Roman as the hook for multiple seasons, especially when there are compelling elements worth exploring if they speed the process along.

Similarly, Wild Cards Season 3 had the perfect setup for a strong season, and then, for reasons that remain mystifying, the series fumbles in every aspect of that setup.

The season strings us along regarding any meaningful emotional payoff and follow-up for all of its most compelling conflicts, from Max’s feelings for Ellis (she wanted to get on that boat and ride away with him… but he didn’t care?!) to her mother returning from the dead (bottle up the abandonment issues, I guess).

We waited, and then we saw absolutely nothing of substance.

The aforementioned shows at least have enough going for them where this structuring is a fixable flaw that doesn’t otherwise detract from their strengths.

Sullivan’s Crossing Season 4 utilizes this approach while spending the entire season leading us on a string, never taking us anywhere.

Not only did I wait all season for something significant to happen, but I kept waiting for something interesting, too.

Ultimately, it results in a season that feels like it has neither a plot nor a purpose, nor anything that would incentivize anyone to tune in for a follow-up season.

They asked viewers for patience, but they didn’t follow through on rewarding it.

Viewers are asked to follow the journey, and most don’t have an issue with that at all.

The problem is when an entire season becomes little more than a promise that the real story starts next year.

Viewers aren’t losing patience because they can’t appreciate slow-burn storytelling, but they are understandably frustrated when too many shows mistake postponing the story for telling one.

Trusting the process — waiting and seeing — only works when there’s direction, respect, and a payoff.

Over to you, TV Fanatics. Have you noticed this pattern as well? What are your thoughts on it?