An endearing cast, uniformly brilliant performances, and several hype QTEs are dampened by a visually unimaginative world with combat that stops being engaging quite early.
In effect you're doing the same thing in XVI's combat as in most other FFs, attacking with your strongest moves and healing when your HP is low. The other ones give you things to think about and manage though, inside and outside of battles. What's not ideal for a combat system meant to entertain for 50-60 hours is that, during fights, it's never a question of "which move is best for this enemy/situation?", but always "which move isn't in cooldown atm?"
Action combat can definitely be designed to entertain for as long as this game takes, but I can't think of any systems that manage that for the full length of an RPG while being devoid of meaningful customisation options or enemy types that demand you adjust your approach. (It's weird that they didn't go with elemental affinities given how many FF summons are associated with the elements). I imagine people who have played NG+ or Final Fantasy Mode will have a better idea of how deep the combat can get, but I was never given a reason to plumb its depths during my initial playthrough, and I do believe it's on the game to incentivise exploration of its mechanics.
With neither a consistently engaging battle system, nor MP, status effects, party members, junctions, gambits, or materia, you can get away with finding a build that drains boss HP fast, then never again thinking about anything except where the red marker on the map is.
In terms of pacing, it feels pretty similar to XIII in that it's run ahead>fight>run ahead>fight. The maps being more elaborate here than in XIII doesn't add much variety to the pacing. Nor did the towns. I didn't much want to explore these towns, but the game explored them and their mundane problems anyway during countless side quests distinguishable only by their cut scenes. Story developments having a visible effect on the world was cool but often the changes saw settlements going from drab to drab in a different way.
The performances in XVI are about on par with those in XII, with many of Clive's relationships feeling grounded and genuine. The chemistry between him and the Hideaway crew allows for some fun dynamics, and these proved the highlight of the experience for me. That said, it's a shame that many of these relationships are Clive-centric. Perhaps this was inevitable given that he's the only proper party member, but I wish we could've seen Mid and Jill interact, for example.
There are a couple of scenes where the game gives you a glimpse of the party you could have had, and I lamented that this game's cast was the one they relegated to the sidelines so they could go full action instead of offering the traditional party set-up. Having more characters to customise or play as would definitely have helped the combat hold my attention. The interactions between the Hideaway crew elevate the experience so much, I can only imagine how much more entertaining the between-cutscenes portions of the game would've been with more pals more often.

For as visually striking and emotionally rousing as The Evil Within 2's final few stages were, since beating the game I struggle to remember large portions of the journey leading up to them. Where the first title's disjointed design and vaguely janky feel combined with its creatively eerie enemy roster and all-over-the-place stage selection to form a wild ride rounded out by rough edges, its follow-up felt like a far safer, mundane jaunt that did little to stick out from the myriad alternative horror experiences available.

While there was fun to be had in the game's semi-open world, and its scavenging gameplay loop enticed me to scour its abandoned houses and car parks, I can't help but shrug at the bland suburban backdrop utilised for most of the game. Although occasional setpieces offered less mundane environs, even these felt frequently derivative, with the gory art exhibition being reminiscent of the 2001 film, The Cell.
Compared to the smorgasbord of destinations that Sebastian barrelled through in his first outing (ranging from European towns to abstract hellscapes and flooded cities), it's no small wonder that the pavements and driveways of 2 feel so pedestrian. Similarly, while the original had the nightmarish screeching spider lady, Laura, the Anima ghost that appears in 2, while somewhat spooky in her sporadic appearances, felt too generic in terms of design to inspire true terror at any point (cool controller gimmick aside).

Ultimately 2 lacked the unrestrained energy and everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach that characterised the uneven original, resulting in a game that was only excellent in its closing moments. In smoothing out the kinks of 1, 2 lost not only the lows of its forebear, but the highs too, resulting in an experience so smooth that its contents slipped my mind almost immediately.