It is an often-repeated piece of advice among many that sharing custody a dog post-separation is a terrible idea. Experts frequently claim such setups prevent individuals from finding closure, create logistical nightmares, spark arguments, and are a nuisance across the board. Seemingly, in a revelation worthy of a direct-to-platform film, it can even cause the canine in question to become depressed.
Not to downplay the inner life of animals – countless people speak of their profound sensitivity. For a prime example in canine melancholy, simply recall recent cinema. It seems certain that a dog like Merv, a wired-hair terrier mix portrayed by Gus the Dog, would have a hard time adapting to split households. The idea of basing a full holiday film on such a setup works effectively is debatable at best.Predictable Foundations
Fairness demands noting, Merv, written by its screenwriters and helmed by director Swale, never aspires to be anything more than its premise. It functions as a seasonal offering from a corporate studio – the complexity remains surface-level. The plot proves to be simple and direct: exes Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), confronting that their own sadness is surpassed by their dog's, embark on a therapeutic trip to a luxury pet hotel. At this location, predictably, they will presumably stumble toward the idea that they belong with each other. Side characters – including familiar faces – serve as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. The film's look carries the feel of a streaming service original, with a wintry atmosphere that is visibly contrived – think obvious snow effects piled on green trees as North Carolina substitutes for the Northeast.
The Dog's Domain
Whether these predictable parts merge into an entertaining watch hinges on the actors' work and the viewer's appetite for easy entertainment. On the latter point, Merv targets a specific viewer – the kind who browse regularly for dog videos. The film delivers a series of adorable dog montages. The main attraction is the canine star, and though it results in some awkward editing between what the dog does and human reaction, the movie succeeds in showing walking sequences, dog depression, and, in the end, a tail-wagging resolution.
The Human Element
Such effectiveness cannot be applied for the interpersonal drama. The tone wavers between serious study, wacky comedy, predictable love story, and outright slapstick, never fully committing to a single genre. The fault lies not with Cox's performance, who is willing to embrace the absurd and awkward inherent in the bizarre setting. Cox exhibits a charming humility that supplies much of the film's charm for this seemingly ideal couple. Her co-star Deschanel, as is her trademark, imparts a distinctive offbeat energy that will click for some but not others. Her portrayal comes across as a touch too detached, notably when paired with Cox's genuine sadness. (On another note, Merv himself succeeds in looking despondent – while no a canine thespian of that caliber, he remains a very good boy.)
Merv tries to add substance to the central romance for sequences focusing solely on them – a regrettable choice, since the title character is by far the cutest element of this cute-aiming movie. Expectedly, it just about gets by. The catalyst for the split could have been more adult and realistic with more screen time and fewer direct statements. Ultimately, Merv is gentle and pleasant, fulfilling precisely what you anticipate. Crafting a story about dog co-parenting has potential – though I wouldn't call it a brilliant concept.
- Merv streams on Prime Video this December.
