It’s Thursday night in 1997. You’re curled up on the couch, cereal bowl in hand, watching Friends. Ross is at the altar in London, pledging his love to Emily. Everything is going fine until he says the wrong name. “I, Ross, take thee… Rachel.” The room goes silent. Rachel’s face flashes on screen. The credits roll.
And that’s it. Viewers waited four long months to see how it all played out. The cliffhanger had done its job.
Back in the day, cliffhangers weren’t just plot twists. They were events. People didn’t just watch TV. They joined national conversations. From Dallas to Lost, these moments froze us in suspense and kept us coming back. Streaming changed everything, and the cliffhanger began to lose its punch.
Cliffhangers Were Once Cultural Staples
In 1980, Dallas ended its season with a shot fired and a villain collapsing. The question “Who shot J.R.?” became a cultural phenomenon. People wore it on T-shirts. News anchors talked about it. You couldn’t go a day without hearing the phrase.
Cliffhangers were designed to torment, and they worked because episodes aired weekly. The gaps between seasons created tension and anticipation. The long wait was part of the experience, even if it meant months of agony. I would even go so far as to say that TV cliffhangers brought people together– gave them something to talk about and bond with each other over.
Streaming Dismantled the Suspense
Now, with entire seasons dropping all at once, the traditional cliffhanger no longer holds the same power. You don’t have to wait for an answer. You just hit “next episode” and keep going.
Even when the cliffhanger is strong, like the one in Sweet Tooth or The Diplomat, the binge model blurs its impact. You may remember the twist, but the details fade. The suspense doesn’t stretch. It snaps.
Streaming delays between seasons also mean viewers often forget what happened in the finale. A shocking reveal becomes a hazy memory by the time the show returns.
The Frustration of Unfinished Business
Streaming brought a new kind of cliffhanger pain. When shows like 1899 or Southland get canceled before resolving key plotlines, viewers are left hanging in the worst way.
Even successful series misuse cliffhangers. Based on a True Story builds momentum over eight episodes and then ends without resolution, introducing more complications instead of closure. It’s not a tease. It’s a dead end.
This kind of storytelling doesn’t fuel fan engagement. It sparks annoyance. Cliffhangers used to drive ratings and preserve audience loyalty. Now, they risk alienating viewers who crave satisfying conclusions.
Cliffhangers Can Still Work — But They Have to Earn It
Some shows use cliffhangers effectively within episodes rather than at season’s end. These mini twists keep viewers engaged and can heighten emotional investment. Think Eleanor’s twist in The Good Place or Sherlock’s faked death. They upend the premise and reshape the narrative.
But if every episode ends unresolved, when do we get payoff? Too many cliffhangers start to feel like a gimmick rather than genuine storytelling.
People are more likely to return to a show because they enjoyed it, not because they feel trapped by unanswered questions. Resolution matters more than manipulation.
The Death of the Cliffhanger Was Inevitable
Streaming didn’t just change how we watch. It changed how stories are told. Spoilers, binge culture, and content purges all chipped away at the once mighty cliffhanger.
The suspense isn’t gone. It just lives in different places now. The thrill is still there in fan theories, character arcs, and brilliant twists, but in shorter cycles and smaller doses.
Cliffhangers were once the heartbeat of television. Now they are a storytelling tool best used with care. And if a show is great, it doesn’t need a cliffhanger to make sure we come back. We’ll return for the ride, not just the reveal.
