This is an often-repeated piece of advice in certain circles that sharing custody a dog after a breakup is ill-advised. The consensus suggests such situations prevent individuals from healing, create logistical nightmares, spark arguments, and are a nuisance across the board. Apparently, in a revelation worthy of a direct-to-platform film, it reportedly leads to our furry friends to experience sadness.
Not to downplay the inner life of animals – many owners speak of their remarkable empathy. For a masterclass in dog sorrow, simply recall another performance. I firmly believe that a dog such as Merv, a scruffy terrier type brought to life by the canine actor Gus, would find it difficult adjusting to life in two homes. Whether this premise a full holiday film on such a setup is sustainable remains a questionable prospect.A Familiar Formula
Honestly, Merv, the work of Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and helmed by Jessica Swale, makes no grand claims anything more than a light film. We have here a holiday release from a corporate studio – the complexity are modest. Its storyline is destined to be straightforward: former spouses Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna, portrayed by Zooey Deschanel, confronting that their own sadness is rivaled only by their dog's, embark on a therapeutic trip to a canine-centric retreat. Once there, as expected, they will undoubtedly stumble toward the idea that they are better together. The supporting cast – including a group of comedic actors – are crafted as quirky, thinly written, or broadly comic. Its aesthetic has the quality of a platform's in-house production, with a Christmas setting that is clearly manufactured – exemplified by flurries clinging to green trees as a summer location stands in for a cold December city.
Where the Film Shines
Whether these standard ingredients coalesce into something enjoyable depends on the execution and an acceptance of cinematic comfort food. Regarding the second aspect, Merv hones in on a demographic – the kind who scroll endlessly for cute animal clips. Audiences receive a wealth of canine-centric sequences. The central draw is the canine star, and while this leads to some stilted moments between the pet's "lines" and human reaction, the movie succeeds in showing dog beach fun, dog depression, and, finally, a tail-wagging resolution.
The Human Element
Such effectiveness is not earned for the interpersonal drama. Its style wavers between emotional depth, broad humor, formulaic romance, and outright slapstick, never fully committing to a single genre. This is not Cox's performance, who is fully game the silliness and cringe demanded of the bizarre setting. His performance contains a charming humility that provides a significant portion of the appeal for this on-the-rocks couple. Anna's portrayer, as is her trademark, brings a certain millennial quirkiness that will click for some but not others. Her Anna seems a little too aloof, notably when paired with Cox's genuine sadness. (On another note, Merv himself succeeds in flopping and whining – while no a canine thespian of that caliber, he remains a scene-stealer.)
Merv tries to add substance to the central romance for moments when the dog is absent – which is unfortunate, given that the dog is by far the most adorable aspect of this film designed for charm. As one might predict, it meets the bare minimum. The reason for their separation might seem more adult and realistic with greater exploration and fewer direct statements. Ultimately, Merv is light and sugary, fulfilling every expected note. Creating a movie about dog co-parenting has potential – though I wouldn't call it a great one either.
- Merv streams on Prime Video this December.
