It is an often-repeated piece of advice in certain circles that jointly caring for a pet following a split is a recipe for trouble. The consensus suggests such arrangements hinder individuals from moving forward, create logistical nightmares, spark arguments, and become annoying for everyone involved. Seemingly, and in a twist worthy of a direct-to-platform film, it reportedly leads to the dogs themselves to become depressed.
Without minimizing the emotional well-being of dogs – countless people speak of their remarkable empathy. If you need prime example in dog sorrow, consider recent cinema. I firmly believe that a dog of Merv's nature, a spirited little dog played by Gus the Dog, would struggle coping with divided living arrangements. The idea of basing an entire Christmas romance on such a setup is sustainable remains a questionable prospect.A Familiar Formula
Honestly, Merv, written by the writing duo and directed by playwright Jessica Swale, never aspires to be deeper than what it is. We have here a holiday release from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the complexity remains surface-level. The narrative proves to be simple and direct: exes Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), realizing that their individual funk is matched by their dog's, embark on a cheer-up vacation to a canine-centric retreat. Once there, as expected, they will presumably rediscover the idea that they are better together. Side characters – including familiar faces – serve as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. The film's look carries the feel of a branded content, with a wintry atmosphere that is obviously artificial – think fake snow surrounding green trees as a warm climate substitutes for the Northeast.
Where the Film Shines
Whether these standard ingredients come together into a pleasant experience rests upon the actors' work and an acceptance of comfort viewing. For the comfort factor, Merv knows its audience – the kind who scroll endlessly for cute animal clips. Audiences receive a plethora of canine-centric sequences. The central draw is the canine star, and though it results in some clunky cuts between animal action and the actors' responses, the movie delivers on canine party antics, pet moping, and, ultimately, pure puppy happiness.
The Human Element
This level of success does not extend for the romantic plot. Its style shifts uneasily between serious study, zany antics, predictable love story, and silly gags, never fully committing to a single genre. The fault lies not with the actor playing Russ, who is willing to embrace the absurd and awkward inherent in the unusual premise. His performance contains a endearing lack of ego that supplies the bulk of the chemistry for this on-the-rocks couple. Her co-star Deschanel, as is her trademark, brings a distinctive offbeat energy that will click for some but not others. The character seems a bit too dry, notably when contrasted against Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (On another note, Gus the Dog is convincing at looking despondent – while no Messi from that acclaimed drama, he remains an excellent dog.)
Merv tries to add substance to the central romance for sequences focusing solely on them – a bit of a pity, given that the title character is undoubtedly the cutest element of this cute-aiming movie. As one might predict, it meets the bare minimum. The reason for their separation could have been more nuanced with less exposition and fewer direct statements. Ultimately, Merv is light and sugary, meeting all its marks. Creating a movie with this canine conflict is not terrible – though it's not exactly a stroke of genius.
- Merv streams on Prime Video on December 10th.
