It is a widely held belief in certain circles that sharing custody a canine companion post-separation is ill-advised. Experts frequently claim such arrangements hinder former couples from moving forward, lead to scheduling chaos, fuel disputes, and are a nuisance for all parties. Apparently, in a revelation fit for a direct-to-platform film, it reportedly leads to our furry friends to feel down.
Without minimizing the inner life of animals – countless people attest to their deep emotional capacity. For a masterclass in pet despair, consider recent cinema. I firmly believe that a dog such as Merv, a scruffy terrier type played by the canine actor Gus, would have a hard time coping with divided living arrangements. Whether this premise an entire Christmas romance around this situation works effectively seems debatable at best.A Familiar Formula
To its credit, Merv, the work of Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and directed by Jessica Swale, never aspires to be anything more than its premise. It functions as a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the depth are modest. Its storyline unfolds as straightforward: a separated couple Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), confronting that their post-breakup gloom is surpassed by their dog's, decide on a uplifting getaway to a luxury pet hotel. At this location, predictably, they will surely realize the idea that they belong with each other. The supporting cast – including familiar faces – fulfill roles eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. The film's look carries the feel of a branded content, with a Christmas setting that is visibly contrived – think flurries surrounding lush pines as a warm climate doubles as the Northeast.
The Dog's Domain
How these predictable parts coalesce into a pleasant experience hinges on the strength of the performances and the viewer's appetite for cinematic comfort food. For the comfort factor, Merv hones in on a demographic – individuals who seek out for pet content. It provides a wealth of canine-centric sequences. The central draw is Merv himself, and while this leads to some awkward editing 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
This level of success cannot be applied for the interpersonal drama. The film's approach wavers between relationship drama, zany antics, predictable love story, and outright slapstick, never fully committing to a consistent feel. This is not the actor playing Russ, who is admirably committed the absurd and awkward inherent in the bizarre setting. His performance contains a endearing lack of ego that supplies the bulk of the chemistry for this ostensibly perfect couple. Anna's portrayer, in her typical fashion, injects a certain millennial quirkiness that will be to your taste or not. Her Anna seems a little too aloof, especially when paired with Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (On another note, Merv himself manages flopping and whining – not quite Messi from that acclaimed drama, he's definitely a very good boy.)
The film attempts to give weight to Anna and Russ's relationship for sequences focusing solely on them – a regrettable choice, since the dog is easily the best part of this film designed for charm. Unsurprisingly, it just about gets by. The cause for the split could have been more adult and realistic with less exposition and more subtle storytelling. As it stands, Merv is slight and sweet, meeting precisely what you anticipate. Crafting a story with this canine conflict has potential – even if it's hardly a stroke of genius.
- Merv streams on Prime Video this December.
