This is an often-repeated piece of advice in certain circles that jointly caring for a pet after a breakup is a terrible idea. The consensus suggests such setups impede former couples from finding closure, create logistical nightmares, fuel disputes, and prove frustrating across the board. As it turns out, and in a twist suited to a direct-to-platform film, it can even cause our furry friends to become depressed.
Without minimizing the inner life of dogs – many owners observe their deep emotional capacity. For a masterclass in dog sorrow, consider recent cinema. There is little doubt that a dog such as Merv, a wired-hair terrier mix portrayed by a talented dog named Gus, would find it difficult adjusting to divided living arrangements. Whether this premise a full holiday film around this situation works effectively seems a questionable prospect.A Familiar Formula
To its credit, Merv, crafted by the writing duo and helmed by playwright Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be deeper than a light film. We have here a seasonal offering from a corporate studio – the depth remains surface-level. The narrative unfolds as uncomplicated: former spouses Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), forced to acknowledge that their individual funk is surpassed by their dog's, embark on a cheer-up vacation to a luxury pet hotel. There, inevitably, they will undoubtedly rediscover the idea that they are better together. The supporting cast – played by familiar faces – are crafted as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Its aesthetic has the quality of a branded content, with a Christmas setting that is clearly manufactured – exemplified by flurries surrounding verdant foliage as a summer location doubles as the Northeast.
Where the Film Shines
If these predictable parts coalesce into an entertaining watch hinges on the execution and one's taste for cinematic comfort food. For the comfort factor, Merv hones in on a demographic – those people who scroll endlessly for cute animal clips. Audiences receive a plethora of adorable dog montages. The central draw is the canine star, and though it results in some clunky cuts between what the dog does and people's faces, the movie does offer canine party antics, dog depression, and, finally, pure puppy happiness.
The Human Element
Such effectiveness is not earned for the romantic plot. The film's approach shifts uneasily between serious study, zany antics, predictable love story, and outright slapstick, never fully committing to any one mode. This is not Cox's performance, who is willing to embrace the silliness and cringe demanded of the unusual premise. He brings a likable self-deprecation that offers much of the film's charm for this seemingly ideal couple. Her co-star Deschanel, true to her usual style, brings a distinctive offbeat energy that will either resonate with viewers. The character can feel a bit too dry, especially when alongside Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (On another note, Merv himself succeeds in flopping and whining – he may not be a canine thespian of that caliber, he is still a scene-stealer.)
The story strives to add substance to the couple's history for moments when the dog is absent – a bit of a pity, considering the title character is undoubtedly the best part of this film designed for charm. Unsurprisingly, it just about gets by. The cause for their separation might seem more adult and realistic with more screen time and less blunt explanation. In the end, Merv is light and sugary, hitting all its marks. Making a film with this canine conflict is not terrible – but it's hardly a great one either.
- Merv streams on the Amazon platform starting December 10.
