🔗 Share this article

This is a common warning among many that sharing custody a canine companion after a breakup is ill-advised. Most will argue such setups impede ex-partners from healing, cause practical headaches, spark arguments, and prove frustrating across the board. Apparently, in a revelation worthy of a direct-to-platform film, it also makes the canine in question to experience sadness.

Not to downplay the emotional well-being of dogs – many owners attest to their deep emotional capacity. To witness a masterclass in dog sorrow, one need only look another performance. It seems certain that a dog like Merv, a scruffy terrier type brought to life by the canine actor Gus, would struggle adjusting to divided living arrangements. If this concept an entire Christmas romance on this conflict works effectively remains rather doubtful.

Standard Holiday Fare

To its credit, Merv, written by the writing duo and under the guidance of director Swale, doesn't pretend to be more profound than what it is. This is a holiday release from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the complexity remains surface-level. The narrative proves to be uncomplicated: exes Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), realizing that their individual funk is matched by their dog's, decide on a uplifting getaway to a luxury pet hotel. At this location, predictably, they will undoubtedly realize the idea that they should reunite. Ensemble players – played by Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – fulfill roles eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Its aesthetic has the quality of a streaming service original, with a Christmas setting that is clearly manufactured – exemplified by fake snow piled on verdant foliage as a warm climate doubles as the Northeast.

The Canine Charisma

How these standard ingredients come together into an entertaining watch hinges on the strength of the performances and one's taste for comfort viewing. Regarding the second aspect, Merv knows its audience – those people who scroll endlessly for dog videos. It provides a wealth of canine-centric sequences. The central draw is the canine star, and even if it causes some clunky cuts between the pet's "lines" and the actors' responses, the movie delivers on dog beach fun, pet moping, and, finally, pure puppy happiness.

The Human Element

Such effectiveness does not extend for the human side of the story. Its style wavers between emotional depth, zany antics, standard rom-com beats, and outright slapstick, failing to master any one mode. This is not the actor playing Russ, who is willing to embrace the silliness and cringe required by the dog resort scenario. His performance contains a charming humility that supplies the bulk of the chemistry for this ostensibly perfect couple. Anna's portrayer, as is her trademark, imparts a certain millennial quirkiness that will either resonate with viewers. Her portrayal seems a touch too detached, particularly when alongside Cox's genuine sadness. (For what it's worth, the canine performer is convincing at looking despondent – he may not be Messi from that acclaimed drama, he's definitely an excellent dog.)

The film attempts to give weight to the couple's history for scenes without their pet – a regrettable choice, considering Merv is by far the best part of this film designed for charm. Unsurprisingly, it achieves only baseline competence. The catalyst for their original breakup might seem more nuanced with less exposition and fewer direct statements. In the end, Merv is light and sugary, fulfilling every expected note. Creating a movie on this shared-custody premise isn't a bad idea – but it's hardly a stroke of genius.

• Merv streams on Prime Video this December.