And audiences are renowned for being a fickle bunch.
The thing is, we can afford to be. There are now more ways for us to enjoy, fill or waste our time than ever. If you don't like the cut of a new actor's jib or you don't care for the new period setting, or the new storyline doesn't appeal for whatever reason, then why would you return? That's right, you wouldn't.
And this is all before you get to the very real problem of bottling lightning. A problem beautifully illustrated by the big fat turkey that was True Detective season two.
Has a fall from grace and critics' Best of the Year lists ever been so dramatically brutal? So damningly resounding? So uniformly agreed on?
The first season was revolutionary television. Fiercely intriguing, superbly acted and inventively filmed, it pushed television closer to its cinematic ambitions than was thought possible. It heralded a new dawn. And then season two flipped us the bird before sending us back into the dark void of terrible telly.
It was so bad it almost killed the whole anthology idea dead. The show itself may not survive the fallout. Even now, a full two months after Vince Vaughn shuffled through the hot desert and off this mortal coil, season three has yet to be confirmed.
So I'm not gonna lie. I had some very real trepidation going into the second season of Fargo (Soho, Tuesdays, 8:30pm). I absolutely loved the first season: the black humour, the way it embraced the bizarre and the fantastically idiosyncratic performances. Based on the classic movie of the same name, the series perfectly captured the unpredictable quirkiness of tone that film-makers the Coen Brothers are renowned for.
By every metric it was a success, even winning the highest praise possible by snaffling my "Best Telly Show of 2014" award in this very column.
So yes, I was excited for season two. But also apprehensive. The first season of Fargo operated within the framework of the film. For season two, the training wheels were coming off. It was throwing out not just its inspiration, but also everything I liked in an attempt to take off and balance all on its own.
It's immensely relieving to report that the first episode does not career wildly or tumble over. It's smart, assured, and risky. The quirk is back, the humour is blacker and straight off the bat it's far, far bloodier.
Unlike True Detective, which burst out of the gate at a snail's pace before slowing things down, Fargo zooms along relentlessly. It covers a huge amount of ground and does an admirable job of getting all of this season's plot balls into the air before the closing credits.
The story, which looks to be about how the myriad characters it's introduced all fit into a burgeoning organised crime war, is told with smooth confidence, pitch-black humour and a capacity and desire to surprise. How the UFO fits into all this, I don't know.
Whether it turns out to be aliens, secret military operatives or merely a cocaine-induced hallucination I'll be sure not to get too attached.
First because death is never too far away in Fargo and second because whoever or whatever it turns out to be, I know they won't be back next year. But based on the quality on display so far, I definitely will be.
