This is a widely held belief in certain circles that jointly caring for a canine companion post-separation is a terrible idea. Most will argue such arrangements prevent former couples from healing, cause practical headaches, spark arguments, and are a nuisance for everyone involved. As it turns out, and in a twist fit for a direct-to-platform film, it can even cause the canine in question to experience sadness.
While respecting the inner life of our pets – many owners speak of their profound sensitivity. To witness a standout portrayal in canine melancholy, one need only look recent cinema. I firmly believe that a dog of Merv's nature, a wired-hair terrier mix brought to life by the canine actor Gus, would have a hard time adapting to split households. Whether this premise a full holiday film on this conflict holds water remains a questionable prospect.Predictable Foundations
Honestly, Merv, crafted by its screenwriters and helmed by Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be more profound than its premise. This is a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the ambitions remains surface-level. The plot is destined to be straightforward: former spouses Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), forced to acknowledge that their individual funk is rivaled only by their dog's, decide on a cheer-up vacation to a dog-friendly resort. There, inevitably, they will surely realize the idea that they belong with each other. The supporting cast – including Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – fulfill roles the usual assortment of types. Its aesthetic is reminiscent of a branded content, with a holiday backdrop that is clearly manufactured – exemplified by obvious snow effects surrounding lush pines as a warm climate stands in for a cold December city.
Where the Film Shines
If these predictable parts come together into an entertaining watch rests upon the strength of the performances and one's taste for easy entertainment. On the latter point, Merv targets a specific viewer – those people who scroll endlessly for pet content. It provides a plethora of scenes focused on the pet. The central draw is the canine star, and even if it causes some clunky cuts between what the dog does and human reaction, the movie succeeds in showing walking sequences, dog depression, and, finally, a tail-wagging resolution.
The Human Element
This level of success does not extend for the romantic plot. The film's approach shifts uneasily between emotional depth, broad humor, predictable love story, and silly gags, failing to master a single genre. This is not Cox's performance, who is willing to embrace the absurd and awkward required by the bizarre setting. Cox exhibits a charming humility that supplies a significant portion of the appeal for this on-the-rocks couple. Anna's portrayer, in her typical fashion, imparts a particular brand of eccentricity that will either resonate with viewers. Her Anna can feel a bit too dry, especially when contrasted against Cox's vulnerable performance. (On another note, Gus the Dog succeeds in acting depressed – he may not be Messi from that acclaimed drama, he remains a very good boy.)
Merv tries to add substance to the central romance for scenes without their pet – a bit of a pity, since the title character is by far the most adorable aspect of this film designed for charm. Expectedly, it achieves only baseline competence. The catalyst for their separation could have been more nuanced with more screen time and fewer direct statements. In the end, Merv is slight and sweet, hitting precisely what you anticipate. Making a film about dog co-parenting is not terrible – though I wouldn't call it a stroke of genius.
- Merv premieres on Prime Video starting December 10.
