With each new season of Yellowjackets, there’s an inevitable expectation that the show will sputter out. This is a consequence of the way in which its showrunners have elected to tell this story, with intersecting past and present timelines. When something of note happens in each narrative world, our perception of its counterpart is altered, and vice versa. Yellowjackets revolves around this causality, a sentiment that is bound to tire itself out sooner rather than later. With its third season, the hit drama series finds itself on uncertain territory for the first time.

It's not panning out like you might expect, though. The expectation of the viewer would be that, as more Yellowjackets reveal their survival in the adult timeline, investment would be lost in the teen one, because viewers already know the fates of their favourite characters. What’s confusing is that, although the outcomes of all the show’s central characters are now known, the teen timeline remains gripping, while the adult one scrambles to keep up with its counterpart. The adult Yellowjackets become increasingly poor caricatures of their teenage selves, who constantly make inexplicable decisions and behave in uncharacteristic ways that significantly diminish the viewing experience. While this isn’t necessarily a new problem for Yellowjackets, there’s a jarring tonal battle going on in the present timeline, as episodes delve into the ferocity of the wilderness one moment and embody tropes of a sitcom the next. It’s not like these discrepancies are interesting experiments into genre. These tonal issues feel more like the product of a writers’ room who have backed themselves into a corner.

The outlandish storylines in this season’s adult timeline might have been forgiven if they were attached to strong, grounded performances, but no one in the present timeline was able to connivingly embody the material they were provided. Tawny Cypress (Taissa) and Lauren Ambrose (Van) are the most egregious examples of this—the characters are thrust into a plotline involving blood debts and remissive cancer that undermines how audiences are supposed to perceive not only their characters, but also their relationship. In the last few episodes of the season, two-time Academy Award winner Hillary Swank joins the cast, offering up what is a bafflingly unconvincing performance. One might feel tempted to give Swank some grace, arguing that she’s still finding her footing in this new environment, but not only is she the most accomplished member of the ensemble, Lauren Ambrose slotted perfectly (into the tone of the show) as a newcomer only a season ago. None of this is to mention Melanie Lynskey (Shauna), a veteran actress whose command of the screen from previous seasons is outright sabotaged by lacklustre writing.

This being said, Yellowjackets still retains the dynamic energy of its first two seasons through its stellar teen timeline. This season’s carefully constructed arc begins by giving viewers time with its characters in ways it never quite has, enabling further attachment to not only recurring favourites, but also background characters finally given their time in the spotlight. Namely, Alexa Barajas (Mari) excels in early episodes of the season, and Nia Sondaya (Akilah) emerges from the shadows to become a truly compelling agent in the ecosystem of the teen Yellowjackets. What drives the action of the teen timeline is the mental decline of Shauna (Sophie Nélisse) and Lottie (Courtney Eaton), both actresses embodying radical shifts in characterisation that, at times, even justify the actions of their adult counterparts. Through it all, Natalie (Sophie Thatcher) remains a steadfast bastion of sanity, keeping plotlines grounded and within reach of audience comprehension.

The complex interpersonal bonds between characters, the rivalry between Natalie and Shauna, Mari’s time in the pit, and Melissa’s sleeping to the top fill every moment of the teen timeline with intrigue, keeping viewers hooked on every word. Now that these characters aren’t actively fighting for their survival and have settled into the rhythms of the wilderness, viewers are allowed to exist among their quieter moments, adding a new depth of familiarity that brings something truly fresh and exciting to the table. The radical shift in intensity of the season’s last few episodes is thereby justified, as viewers have grown closer to these characters and feel more invested than ever in the challenges that face them.

Season three of Yellowjackets confirms the worst fears of its fanbase: that the show is subservient to the ticking clock of its own narrative interrelationship. The anticipation of the team’s looming rescue in the teen timeline is manifested by clunky and overwritten plots in the adult timeline, made in an attempt to match the stakes of its counterpart. Viewers can only hope that showrunners will learn from the positive reception of this season’s teen storyline, and come to understand that it isn’t increasingly heightened threats that make Yellowjackets compelling, but the fascinatingly complex relationships shared between its characters. There’s still gas in this show’s tank, the conservation of which is vital to its future.