A lot of "show" isn't immersive; it's a crashing bore.
And it's hit-or-miss whether the reader will even comprehend what they're seeing, what it reveals about characters or events. In
The Art of Fiction, John Gardner characterized such writing as "frigid" (opening a whole other can of worms around the loadedness of that word in the era in which he came of age). Part of the author's job is to interpret what is portrayed. Selection
and interpretation define the writer.
too much "tell" can race the reader past scenes that should be felt deeply.
Not to mention that much of the best free narrative is not scene-based at all. A chapter about "a certain splendid autumn" or someone's gradual disenchantment with — well, I was going to say a marriage or a relationship, but it could really be disenchantment (or enchantment) with anything at all — must almost by definition transcend scene-writing, and will likely fall flat if we try to reduce it to or crystallize it into enactment of specific scenes. Adaptations to screen or stage must do so, but one of the splendors of written fiction is that it need not cinematize.
I really need to come up with a better example, but for now I refer people to Chapter 13, "The Conductor," of Erica Jong's 1973 second-wave feminist novel
Fear of Flying for a masterful example of recounting an entire relationship richly in under 6,000 words without resorting to a scene-written approach. Almost any novella by Jim Harrison, once regarded as the foremost American literary novella writer of his time, further exemplifies masterful storytelling with a narrative rather than scene-written approach. The very heart of masterful story
telling is powerful telling.