This is an often-repeated piece of advice in certain circles that co-parenting a canine companion following a split is a recipe for trouble. Experts frequently claim such setups prevent former couples from healing, lead to scheduling chaos, fuel disputes, and prove frustrating across the board. As it turns out, as a development worthy of a streaming movie, it also makes the dogs themselves to experience sadness.
Without minimizing the emotional well-being of animals – many owners observe their profound sensitivity. If you need prime example in pet despair, consider a past film. I firmly believe that a dog of Merv's nature, a scruffy terrier type played by Gus the Dog, would have a hard time adjusting to split households. The idea of basing a full holiday film around this situation is sustainable seems rather doubtful.Standard Holiday Fare
Fairness demands noting, Merv, written by the writing duo and under the guidance of Jessica Swale, makes no grand claims anything more than what it is. This is a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the depth are modest. The narrative unfolds as uncomplicated: exes Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna, portrayed by Zooey Deschanel, confronting that their own sadness is surpassed by their dog's, embark on a cheer-up vacation to a luxury pet hotel. There, inevitably, they will surely rediscover the idea that they belong with each other. Ensemble players – including a group of comedic actors – fulfill roles quirky, thinly written, or broadly comic. Its aesthetic is reminiscent of a streaming service original, with a wintry atmosphere that is clearly manufactured – think flurries clinging to lush pines as a summer location stands in for the Northeast.
Where the Film Shines
Whether these standard ingredients coalesce into something enjoyable hinges on the strength of the performances and one's taste for cinematic comfort food. On the latter point, Merv hones in on a demographic – individuals who browse regularly for pet content. The film delivers a series of canine-centric sequences. The main attraction is the canine star, and though it results in some stilted moments between what the dog does and the actors' responses, the movie succeeds in showing canine party antics, dog depression, and, ultimately, a tail-wagging resolution.
The Human Element
This level of success does not extend for the interpersonal drama. The film's approach wavers between relationship drama, zany antics, standard rom-com beats, and outright slapstick, failing to master any one mode. No blame falls on Cox's performance, who is fully game the absurd and awkward required by the dog resort scenario. His performance contains a endearing lack of ego that supplies much of the film's charm for this on-the-rocks couple. Anna's portrayer, in her typical fashion, brings a distinctive offbeat energy that will click for some but not others. The character comes across as a touch too detached, notably when contrasted against Cox's genuine sadness. (It should be noted, Merv himself is convincing at flopping and whining – he may not be the award-winner from Anatomy of a Fall, he's definitely a scene-stealer.)
Merv tries to give weight to the central romance for scenes without their pet – a regrettable choice, considering the title character is easily the best part of this cute-aiming movie. As one might predict, it just about gets by. The cause for the split might seem more adult and realistic with more screen time and more subtle storytelling. As it stands, Merv is light and sugary, hitting all its marks. Making a film on this shared-custody premise is not terrible – though I wouldn't call it a stroke of genius.
- Merv streams on the Amazon platform on December 10th.
