This is a common warning for numerous people that sharing custody a pet post-separation is a terrible idea. Experts frequently claim such setups hinder individuals from finding closure, cause practical headaches, spark arguments, and are a nuisance for everyone involved. As it turns out, in a revelation worthy of a direct-to-platform film, it reportedly leads to our furry friends to experience sadness.
Not to downplay the mental health of our pets – many owners observe their remarkable empathy. To witness a masterclass in dog sorrow, simply recall recent cinema. I firmly believe that a dog like Merv, a scruffy terrier type portrayed by the canine actor Gus, would find it difficult adapting to life in two homes. The idea of basing a feature-length romcom on this conflict holds water seems a questionable prospect.A Familiar Formula
Fairness demands noting, Merv, crafted by Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and directed by playwright Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be anything more than what it is. We have here a Christmas movie from a corporate studio – the depth are modest. The narrative unfolds as uncomplicated: a separated couple Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), realizing that their individual funk is rivaled only by their dog's, take a uplifting getaway to a luxury pet hotel. There, inevitably, they will undoubtedly stumble toward the idea that they are better together. Ensemble players – played by Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – are crafted as quirky, thinly written, or broadly comic. Visually carries the feel of a platform's in-house production, with a holiday backdrop that is obviously artificial – as seen in obvious snow effects surrounding green trees as North Carolina doubles as a cold December city.
The Dog's Domain
If these standard ingredients merge into something enjoyable depends on the actors' work and an acceptance of cinematic comfort food. Regarding the second aspect, Merv knows its audience – those people who scroll endlessly for cute animal clips. It provides a series of canine-centric sequences. The central draw is Merv himself, and though it results in some clunky cuts between the pet's "lines" and the actors' responses, the movie succeeds in showing dog beach fun, canine sorrow, and, finally, doggie joy.
The Human Element
Such effectiveness does not extend for the romantic plot. The film's approach shifts uneasily between serious study, broad humor, predictable love story, and physical comedy, not quite landing a single genre. The fault lies not with the actor playing Russ, who is fully game the absurd and awkward inherent in the unusual premise. He brings a likable self-deprecation that supplies much of the film's charm for this on-the-rocks couple. Her co-star Deschanel, as is her trademark, brings a particular brand of eccentricity that will be to your taste or not. The character can feel a touch too detached, notably when contrasted against Cox's vulnerable performance. (On another note, Merv himself is convincing at flopping and whining – while no Messi from that acclaimed drama, he is still a very good boy.)
The story strives to provide depth to the central romance for moments when the dog is absent – a bit of a pity, since the title character is undoubtedly the cutest element of this film designed for charm. Unsurprisingly, it meets the bare minimum. The reason for their original breakup could have been more adult and realistic with less exposition and more subtle storytelling. Ultimately, Merv is light and sugary, meeting all its marks. Creating a movie on this shared-custody premise has potential – even if I wouldn't call it a stroke of genius.
- Merv streams on Prime Video on December 10th.
