It is an often-repeated piece of advice in certain circles that sharing custody a canine companion post-separation is a recipe for trouble. Most will argue such arrangements prevent ex-partners from finding closure, lead to scheduling chaos, spark arguments, and are a nuisance for everyone involved. Apparently, in a revelation suited to a streaming movie, it also makes our furry friends to experience sadness.
While respecting the mental health of our pets – pet parents observe their remarkable empathy. To witness a prime example in pet despair, simply recall a past film. There is little doubt that a dog of Merv's nature, a wired-hair terrier mix played by Gus the Dog, would find it difficult coping with life in two homes. The idea of basing an entire Christmas romance around this situation is sustainable remains a questionable prospect.A Familiar Formula
Fairness demands noting, Merv, written by Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and under the guidance of playwright Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be anything more than a light film. It functions as a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the depth remains surface-level. The narrative unfolds as simple and direct: exes Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), forced to acknowledge that their individual funk is surpassed by their dog's, decide on a cheer-up vacation to a luxury pet hotel. Once there, as expected, they will surely stumble toward the idea that they belong with each other. Ensemble players – played by Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – are crafted as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. The film's look carries the feel of a platform's in-house production, with a Christmas setting that is obviously artificial – exemplified by flurries clinging to green trees as a warm climate doubles as a cold December city.
The Canine Charisma
How these predictable parts merge into something enjoyable rests upon the execution and an acceptance of cinematic comfort food. On the latter point, Merv hones in on a demographic – the kind who scroll endlessly for dog videos. The film delivers a plethora of scenes focused on the pet. The primary selling point is Merv himself, and even if it causes some awkward editing between animal action and the actors' responses, the movie succeeds in showing dog beach fun, pet moping, and, ultimately, a tail-wagging resolution.
Where It Wobbles
Such effectiveness is not earned for the interpersonal drama. The film's approach vacillates between relationship drama, wacky comedy, standard rom-com beats, and outright slapstick, not quite landing any one mode. No blame falls on the actor playing Russ, who is fully game the silliness and cringe demanded of the unusual premise. His performance contains a likable self-deprecation that supplies a significant portion of the appeal for this on-the-rocks couple. Her co-star Deschanel, as is her trademark, imparts a particular brand of eccentricity that will be to your taste or not. Her portrayal comes across as a little too aloof, particularly when contrasted against Cox's genuine sadness. (It should be noted, the canine performer succeeds in looking despondent – while no the award-winner from Anatomy of a Fall, he is still a scene-stealer.)
Merv tries to add substance to Anna and Russ's relationship for moments when the dog is absent – a bit of a pity, considering the title character is easily the best part of this film designed for charm. Unsurprisingly, it meets the bare minimum. The catalyst for the split could have been more grounded and mature with less exposition and more subtle storytelling. As it stands, Merv is gentle and pleasant, fulfilling precisely what you anticipate. Creating a movie on this shared-custody premise is not terrible – though I wouldn't call it a stroke of genius.
- Merv becomes available on Prime Video this December.
