🔗 Share this article

It is an often-repeated piece of advice among many that co-parenting a dog post-separation is ill-advised. The consensus suggests such arrangements prevent individuals from moving forward, create logistical nightmares, spark arguments, and are a nuisance for everyone involved. Seemingly, in a revelation suited to a direct-to-platform film, it can even cause the dogs themselves to become depressed.

Not to downplay the mental health of animals – countless people attest to their profound sensitivity. To witness a standout portrayal in pet despair, one need only look another performance. I firmly believe that a dog of Merv's nature, a scruffy terrier type brought to life by the canine actor Gus, would have a hard time coping with life in two homes. Whether this premise a full holiday film on such a setup holds water is debatable at best.

A Familiar Formula

To its credit, Merv, crafted by its screenwriters and directed by Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be anything more than a light film. This is a holiday release from a streaming platform giant – the complexity remains surface-level. Its storyline unfolds as uncomplicated: a separated couple Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), confronting that their own sadness is matched by their dog's, decide on a uplifting getaway to a canine-centric retreat. There, inevitably, they will presumably stumble toward the idea that they belong with each other. Ensemble players – played by familiar faces – fulfill roles the usual assortment of types. Visually carries the feel of a streaming service original, with a Christmas setting that is visibly contrived – think flurries piled on verdant foliage as a warm climate substitutes for the Northeast.

The Canine Charisma

Whether these predictable parts coalesce into a pleasant experience depends on the strength of the performances and the viewer's appetite for comfort viewing. On the latter point, Merv knows its audience – the kind who scroll endlessly for pet content. The film delivers a series of canine-centric sequences. The central draw is Merv himself, and even if it causes some clunky cuts between the pet's "lines" and human reaction, the movie succeeds in showing canine party antics, pet moping, and, finally, a tail-wagging resolution.

The Human Element

This level of success does not extend for the interpersonal drama. Its style shifts uneasily between relationship drama, zany antics, standard rom-com beats, and physical comedy, not quite landing a consistent feel. No blame falls on Cox's performance, who is willing to embrace the absurd and awkward demanded of the bizarre setting. He brings a likable self-deprecation that supplies a significant portion of the appeal for this on-the-rocks couple. Her co-star Deschanel, true to her usual style, brings a particular brand of eccentricity that will either resonate with viewers. Her portrayal comes across as a bit too dry, particularly when contrasted against Cox's vulnerable performance. (For what it's worth, Merv himself is convincing at acting depressed – while no a canine thespian of that caliber, he's definitely a very good boy.)

The film attempts to give weight to the couple's history for moments when the dog is absent – a bit of a pity, given that Merv is by far the most adorable aspect of this cute-aiming movie. Expectedly, it just about gets by. The catalyst for their separation could have been more adult and realistic with less exposition and less blunt explanation. Ultimately, Merv is light and sugary, meeting all its marks. Making a film on this shared-custody premise isn't a bad idea – but it's not exactly a stroke of genius.

• Merv streams on the Amazon platform this December.