It is a widely held belief among many that jointly caring for a canine companion after a breakup is a terrible idea. Most will argue such situations hinder former couples from finding closure, cause practical headaches, spark arguments, and become annoying for all parties. Seemingly, and in a twist worthy of a direct-to-platform film, it also makes the canine in question to become depressed.
While respecting the mental health of animals – many owners speak of their profound sensitivity. If you need prime example in pet despair, simply recall recent cinema. I firmly believe that a dog of Merv's nature, a wired-hair terrier mix portrayed by the canine actor Gus, would find it difficult adjusting to life in two homes. If this concept an entire Christmas romance on such a setup is sustainable seems debatable at best.Standard Holiday Fare
To its credit, Merv, the work of Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and under the guidance of Jessica Swale, never aspires to be anything more than a light film. This is a Christmas movie from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the depth is limited. The narrative is destined to be straightforward: former spouses Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), confronting that their individual funk is surpassed by their dog's, decide on a therapeutic trip to a canine-centric retreat. Once there, as expected, they will presumably rediscover the idea that they should reunite. Ensemble players – featuring a group of comedic actors – fulfill roles quirky, thinly written, or broadly comic. Its aesthetic has the quality of a streaming service original, with a Christmas setting that is visibly contrived – think fake snow clinging to lush pines as a summer location stands in for the Northeast.
Where the Film Shines
How these familiar elements merge into something enjoyable rests upon the strength of the performances and the viewer's appetite for comfort viewing. For the comfort factor, Merv hones in on a demographic – the kind who seek out for dog videos. Audiences receive a series of adorable dog montages. The main attraction is Merv himself, and while this leads to some clunky cuts between the pet's "lines" and people's faces, the movie succeeds in showing canine party antics, pet moping, and, in the end, pure puppy happiness.
The Human Element
The same praise cannot be applied for the romantic plot. The film's approach shifts uneasily between serious study, zany antics, predictable love story, and silly gags, not quite landing a single genre. The fault lies not with Cox's performance, who is willing to embrace the silliness and cringe required by the unusual premise. Cox exhibits a endearing lack of ego that offers much of the film's charm for this seemingly ideal couple. Her co-star Deschanel, in her typical fashion, brings a certain millennial quirkiness that will either resonate with viewers. Her Anna can feel a bit too dry, particularly when alongside Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (On another note, the canine performer succeeds in looking despondent – he may not be Messi from that acclaimed drama, he's definitely a scene-stealer.)
Merv tries to give weight to the couple's history for scenes without their pet – a bit of a pity, since the dog is undoubtedly the cutest element of this film designed for charm. Expectedly, it meets the bare minimum. The catalyst for their separation might seem more nuanced with more screen time and less blunt explanation. Ultimately, Merv is slight and sweet, hitting all its marks. Creating a movie on this shared-custody premise isn't a bad idea – but it's not exactly a brilliant concept.
- Merv premieres on Prime Video this December.
