Sitemap

Why I’m Done With Yellowjackets!

12 min readApr 4, 2025

--

An Honest Review of Season 3’s Downfall, the Likability trap and it’s Makjang drama tropes.

Press enter or click to view image in full size
Source: SHOWTIME

The haunting wilderness survival and aftermath story of Yellowjackets fascinated me like many other viewers with it’s bold premise and complex characters. My original excitement for the show makes the current reality even harder to accept — this once-promising series has lost its way.

The show earned a dedicated following and critical praise, but now struggles with directionless storytelling, unlikable characters and plot choices that make less sense with each episode. What started as a brilliant dual narrative between the 1996 plane crash survivors and their 2021 selves has turned into a tedious chase for shock value. Either half of the characters (Shauna, Taissa, Van) have become total jerks or the deaths of the core team members — Natalie, Jackie, Travis, Ben and Lottie — suggest the creators care more about the body count than developing their characters.

This piece will get into why I’m done with Yellowjackets. A series that showed such promise has become a bleak parade of unlikable characters and twisted storylines. The show’s wilderness tale has lost its bearings. The abandoned plot threads and character asassinations point to the same path that destroyed other shows — trading substance for cheap thrills

The Betrayal of Female Friendship: TV’s Fake Feminism

“Time passes and you begin to see people for who they really are and not who they pretend to be.” — Scarlet Koop.

Press enter or click to view image in full size
The so-called tight-knit girls football team who would eventually grow to resent each other and backstab each other, try to murder and ruin each other for a shot at the spotlight and popularity. (Credit: SHOWTIME)

Yellowjackets appeared ready to break new ground with a feminist narrative — “that would show how women face disaster together”, much like a female Lord of the Flies situation. Then sadly, the revolutionary examination of female survival and “girls sticking together” myth took a cynical turn.

When sisterhood becomes backstabbing and wilderness edition deadly catfights

“Did you have to do this?// I was thinking that you could be trusted // Did you have to ruin what was shiny? Now it’s all rusted. // Did you have to hit me where I’m weak? Baby, I couldn’t breathe// And rub it in so deep. Salt in the wound like you’re laughing right at me.” — Bad Blood by Taylor Swift.

The series initially captivated audiences by suggesting it would demonstrate how female leadership might handle emergencies differently than their male counterparts. Unfortunately, instead of delivering on this promising and progressive premise, it fell into one of television’s most tired stereotypes that undermines women’s relationships: the characters devolved into vicious infighting, endless power struggles, and relentless backstabbing that would rival the drama levels of Jersey Shore, Real Housewives or Survivor!

The deterioration of Shauna and Jackie’s bond exemplifies this betrayal perfectly — what began as the series’ emotional cornerstone. Their connection wasn’t merely damaged — it became destructive. As one reviewer noted, “Throughout Yellowjackets, female friendships emerge as wellsprings of terror and threat; they become arenas of devastation, malice, and emotional void.” The narrative presents these breakdowns as inevitable rather than examining them critically.

The treachery intensifies in Season 3 when Shauna develops an intense hatred for virtually everyone, reaching a point where she’s ready to betray and torment Natalie and others to establish her dominance as the Antler Queen, driven purely by envy and vindictiveness.

Same with Mari, whose interaction with Ben highlights this pattern perfectly. She gains his trust and promises to keep his secret, only to expose him as soon as she returns to camp. Season 3 repeats this theme as characters keep using each other’s weaknesses and put down each other instead of building trust, especially when it comes to being rescued soon.

The series could have thrived by depicting women as “layered and multifaceted individuals capable of both good and bad choices, just like men”. True representation of women in media isn’t about portraying perfection — it’s about showing authentic human experiences.

Shauna’s storyline evolution (discussed further below) in Season 3 transforms her into a wilderness tormentor, particularly against Natalie. She spitefully tries to punish and murder Coach Ben with her own hands simply to use him as her personal punching bag and test dummy for her violent practices, manipulates Nat into butchering Ben to get back at her for giving him a mercy kill by claiming “This is what he would have wanted”. This demonstrates calculated malice and sadism instead of character depth. Reviews point out that her “cruelty reaches new heights this season”, making her actions increasingly difficult to rationalize as she becomes the most hated character this season.

The survival narrative derails significantly. The group undermines their rescue possibilities by eliminating potential helpers rather than focusing on survival. The situation deteriorates when Shauna decides to forcibly keep the group in the wilderness, driven by her desire to inflict continued pain and torment for her own twisted satisfaction. While their “community breaks down, turning to rituals as a way to rationalize senseless brutality”, the narrative fails to properly contextualize this descent.

Characters You Can’t Root For: The Likability Crisis towards female characters and the Shauna problem

“I Practice Land Use, Not Murder Cleanup.” — Tawny Cypress, as Taissa Turner in Yellowjackets

The essence of compelling storytelling rests in its characters — individuals we empathize with, cheer for, or fundamentally grasp. Unfortunately, Yellowjackets has dismantled this crucial foundation. The audience finds themselves watching a group of characters who grow increasingly unlikable as the series progresses. These young women embrace their feral nature with disturbing readiness and as a result completely backstab each other in the process of coming out on top, like Squid Game.

Despite her evolution in Season 3, Mari’s previous behavior lacks justification for such cattiness, yet she repeatedly orchestrates scenarios where she can claim victimhood. Lottie exhibits comparable patterns when she coerces Travis into consuming psychedelic mushrooms to establish a connection with “it”. His personal autonomy means nothing to her. This wasn’t one of the only times Lottie manipulated and caused chaos for the sake of what the “wilderness” wanted (honestly that whole schitck is annoying me!).

“Felix Leiter: I’m not just a pretty face.

James Bond: I stopped trusting pretty faces a long time ago, Felix.

Felix Leiter: Yeah, I heard. Bad luck.

James Bond: Bad judgment!” — James Bond and Felix Leiter about Madeleine Swann after she got framed and slandered by Blofeld in No Time To Die (2021).

Speaking of trusting pretty faces, I find myself deeply troubled by Shauna Shipman’s transformation into a ruthless psychopath, driven by nothing more than petty vengeance against her former friends over Jackie’s death and her lost pregnancy. What’s particularly unsettling is how little we understand about her pre-wilderness life and the roots of her darkness. The implication seems to be that this cruelty was always lurking within her, waiting to emerge.

Back in Season 1, Shauna was wonderfully relatable — she embodied that universal yearning to break free from being a secondary character in everyone else’s narrative. Her decisions, though extreme, felt grounded in human complexity. While it’s horrible about the losses and suffering she went through in the wilderness, Season 3 has completely warped her character, morphing her into this terrifying wilderness tyrant who rules through intimidation, pettiness, spite and girlboss-style abuse (basically Cassie Howard meets Park Yeon Jin meets Cheon Seo Jin meets Light Yagami), especially to the point where she sadistically tests the limits of how far her power can go and wanting to imprison others in the wilderness just to make them suffer even more and make them feel the pain of not being able to see their loved ones again (and possibly make their loved ones feel the pain and grief she felt over losing her baby).

Get Tanya Malik’s stories in your inbox

Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.

The other students now “tiptoe cautiously around her” despite their superior numbers (I sincerely hope they unite and deliver a humbling dose of karma to her). She assaulted Lottie with such brutality that “Lottie’s entire face was bloodied and disfigured.” This savage display established a dangerous precedent that created this “Monstro-Shauna.”

Beyond that, her cruel treatment of Natalie in Season 3 exposes her transformation into a villain (mirroring the very behavior of Natalie’s own abusive father). She displays “toxic superiority over Natalie that went too far” by pressuring Nat to kill Ben as revenge for giving him a merciful death, enraged like an entitled spoiled rich bitch that she could no longer use him as her emotional punching bag now that Natalie had ended his suffering. This transcends mere survival — she clearly derives pleasure from inflicting pain.

This pattern continues into the present. Adult Shauna killed Adam “without showing any sign of guilt”. Her daughter Callie exhibits similar concerning behaviors by throwing animal entrails at classmates who mocked her mother and her friends. Though there are hints that Callie may eventually recognize her mother’s true nature and break free from this destructive pattern herself.

As one critic aptly noted: “Shauna might see herself as the protagonist of her tale, but so does every villain. What’s evident is that she’s certainly not this story’s hero, and could be something far more sinister”.

The Convoluted Wilderness Mystery: A Promise Never Fulfilled and the lost potential of the dual timeline structure

“Another thing I think I can elaborate on slightly without being too spoilery is that one of the big, primary, macro, over-arching questions that people have is: What did they do out there?” — Ashley Lyle, Showrunner of Yellowjackets

Yellowjackets teased viewers with supernatural mysteries right from its first episode. Three seasons later, that promise remains empty, just like the girls’ abandoned burned cabin, which makes us question what was the point of the girls’ delusions and madness caused by their time in the wilderness.

The series’ treatment of supernatural elements increasingly irks its audience. The show seems unable to commit to whether the Wilderness exists in reality or imagination. As one reviewer noted: “The series deliberately maintains ambiguity about its supernatural nature. This uncertainty has become a liability rather than an asset. Season 3 introduces more mysteries without resolving existing ones about ‘the man with no eyes’ or what exactly the girls ‘brought back’ from their rescue.”

Lottie exemplifies this narrative weakness perfectly. She began as a compelling character with supernatural connections — experiencing visions off her medication and that memorable bear sacrifice. Now she’s become irrelevant, particularly after her sudden, unexplained death in ’12 Angry Girls and a drunk Travis’. “Teenage Lottie has been relegated to the background, performing vague spiritual rituals that, despite occasional eerie visions, feel more like padding than plot development.” says one critic.

I found the Gothic ambiguity compelling as a narrative device initially. The show excelled at exploring “the subjective nature of reality”. Now it feels like lazy writing masquerading as artistic choice. We’re left wondering if “the Wilderness exists as anything more than a coping mechanism the girls invented to process their traumatic choices.”

The journey might be worth it if the destination satisfied. But they’ve eliminated all the characters I cared about watching. With Lottie, Jackie, Travis, Natalie, and Ben gone, I’ve lost interest in the remaining characters and their secrets. Yellowjackets lost me not from unanswered questions, but from no longer caring to know.

Even worse, the dual timeline between the past and the present feels disconnected, as one reviewer points out: “Despite the occasional jaw-dropping moment, Yellowjackets continues to feel unmoored this season, especially when it comes to its adult timeline”.

The back-and-forth between past and present feels increasingly disjointed, leaving us with more questions than answers about what actually transpired. The gaps between then and now create a confusing narrative that doesn’t quite add up. But what really bothers me is the inconsistent treatment of characters, particularly in how the survivors handle their past trauma. It’s baffling that the group (especially Natalie) would so readily forgive Shauna in the present timeline, especially given the horrific torture and suffering she inflicted on the group. Yet somehow, Misty continues to face harsh judgment from the others, despite her actions being far less severe than Shauna’s.

What’s particularly striking is Misty’s character development across both timelines. We see her genuinely grappling with the weight of her choices and actively stepping back from causing further harm. She shows real growth in recognizing when she’s crossed lines and makes conscious decisions to avoid repeating past mistakes, especially inspired by her friendship with Natalie and her fond memories with and grief towards her. This self-awareness makes the others’ continued hostility toward her feel even more unwarranted. Which makes me question the fake female solidarity in the series even more.

The Penthouse Effect: When Shows Sacrifice Story for Shock

Press enter or click to view image in full size
Sadly, Yellowjackets might be headed for the same plot downfall like Penthouse did throughout it’s three seasons with it’s convoluted plot twists and character assassinations (figuratively and literally). The series is basically the wilderness version of Penthouse. (Source: SHOWTIME and SBS)

I’ve noticed a concerning parallel between Yellowjackets’ third season and the South Korean drama “The Penthouse: War In Life.” Both shows perfectly exemplify what I’ve come to call the “Penthouse Effect” — a phenomenon where compelling series abandon their thoughtful storytelling and character development in favor of increasingly outrageous makjang plot twists. This is so frustrating to watch, I thought, as these shows traded their initial promise for cheap thrills. The writing becomes more focused on shocking viewers than maintaining the narrative integrity that made them engaging in the first place.

Kdrama parallels: Plot twists over character consistency

I’ve watched both The Penthouse and Yellowjackets with growing frustration. The Penthouse centers on the wealthy residents of Hera Palace, an upscale apartment complex where dark secrets lurk beneath polished surfaces. When a young girl named Min Seol-Ah dies mysteriously, it triggers an avalanche of revelations. Similarly, Yellowjackets has devolved into an endless parade of betrayals and shocking twists (including turning Shauna Shipman into a Cheon Seo Jin-like character). Both shows started with such promise, crafting nuanced character studies. But somewhere along the way, they sacrificed authentic character development for increasingly melodramatic plot turns.

As a critic once said (in my own sentence), “Plot twists are fool’s gold — they only work if you’ve laid the proper groundwork first.” Sadly, both shows rely heavily on what I call “gotcha moments” — sharp narrative swerves that come out of nowhere, with zero setup or foreshadowing. The writers seem to believe that constant shock value will keep viewers hooked.

But here’s the thing — when shows prioritize dramatic revelations over earned character moments, they lose what made them compelling in the first place. Both The Penthouse and Yellowjackets have fallen into this trap, cranking up the melodrama and twists to increasingly ridiculous levels in a misguided attempt to maintain interest. The result feels hollow and manipulative rather than genuinely engaging.

The inevitable body count problem

In an interview about Season 3, Christina Ricci (Misty) hinted at an unprecedented death toll, stating that “a lot of people [who] get eaten, yeah, more than once” in an incredibly high body count. The series has already claimed numerous lives, including Natalie, Jackie, Travis, Javi, Lottie, Laura, Adam, Ben, and others.

The Penthouse faced similar challenges, particularly during its last season. The series of deaths — both staged and real — involving characters like Oh Yoonhee, Ha Yoon-Chul, Logan Lee, and ultimately Shim Su-Ryeon accumulated at such a rapid pace in the final episodes that the show’s attempts at shocking twists became foreseeable. More disappointingly, after the downfall of Joo Dan Tae and Cheon Seo Jin, none of the characters were given the opportunity to rebuild their lives or experience redemption. The Yellowjackets showrunners recently addressed this phenomenon: “This will tell audiences there are true consequences to our characters’ actions… If the bodies don’t drop in this manner, in a way that’s embedded and wrapped around story, then what are we doing?”

These series abandoned their core essence. The Penthouse and Yellowjackets devolved into a state where viewers “couldn’t trust anyone, including the protagonists.” Yellowjackets followed this trajectory by eliminating its most sympathetic characters while elevating the more sinister and self-absorbed ones, like Shauna, to prominence.

These character eliminations and plot surprises became the driving force rather than supporting elements. The audience experienced diminishing emotional returns and grew weary of the relentless shocking moments.

Yellowjackets initially captivated me with its raw exploration of female survival, intricate relationships, and supernatural elements. Season 3 has painfully dismantled everything that drew me to this groundbreaking series. The writers have abandoned meaningful character development in favor of shock value and gratuitous violence, transforming once-relatable characters into unrecognizable monsters.

Shauna’s evolution particularly breaks my heart. She’s devolved from a complex, nuanced protagonist into a power-hungry sadist who revels in cruelty. Her transformation epitomizes everything wrong with the show’s current trajectory. When she coldly manipulated Natalie into killing Ben without a shred of remorse, I knew these characters were beyond redemption.

The show now mirrors The Penthouse’s fatal mistake — sacrificing coherent storytelling for shocking twists and mounting casualties. The death toll is staggering: Laura, Crystal, Jackie, Javi, Ben, Travis, Natalie, and Lottie. Only one remains. This wilderness journey has lost its soul, leading viewers into meaningless darkness. Like many disappointed fans, I can’t watch it anymore!

--

--

Tanya Malik
Tanya Malik

Written by Tanya Malik

Pop Culture lover. MA Arts and Lifestyle Journalism graduate @ UAL