It is a common warning in certain circles that jointly caring for a canine companion after a breakup is a recipe for trouble. The consensus suggests such arrangements impede individuals from finding closure, cause practical headaches, lead to tension, and prove frustrating for everyone involved. Seemingly, and in a twist fit for a direct-to-platform film, it can even cause the dogs themselves to become depressed.
Not to downplay the mental health of dogs – countless people attest to their profound sensitivity. If you need prime example in dog sorrow, simply recall another performance. I firmly believe that a dog of Merv's nature, a wired-hair terrier mix portrayed by the canine actor Gus, would struggle adapting to split households. The idea of basing a full holiday film on this conflict holds water seems debatable at best.Predictable Foundations
Fairness demands noting, Merv, written by Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and helmed by director Swale, never aspires to be more profound than a light film. We have here a Christmas movie from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the depth is limited. The narrative unfolds as simple and direct: exes Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), forced to acknowledge that their own sadness is surpassed by their dog's, take a cheer-up vacation to a canine-centric retreat. At this location, predictably, they will undoubtedly stumble toward the idea that they belong with each other. The supporting cast – including familiar faces – are crafted as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Its aesthetic carries the feel of a streaming service original, with a wintry atmosphere that is clearly manufactured – think fake snow surrounding lush pines as a summer location doubles as a cold December city.
The Canine Charisma
How these familiar elements coalesce into something enjoyable depends on the strength of the performances and an acceptance of easy entertainment. On the latter point, Merv targets a specific viewer – individuals who browse regularly for pet content. Audiences receive a plethora of canine-centric sequences. The primary selling point is Merv himself, and while this leads to some stilted moments between animal action and human reaction, the movie does offer canine party antics, canine sorrow, and, in the end, a tail-wagging resolution.
The Human Element
Such effectiveness cannot be applied for the human side of the story. The film's approach vacillates between relationship drama, broad humor, predictable love story, and physical comedy, not quite landing any one mode. The fault lies not with Cox's performance, who is fully game the silliness and cringe required by the bizarre setting. Cox exhibits a charming humility that supplies the bulk of the chemistry for this ostensibly perfect couple. Her co-star Deschanel, as is her trademark, injects a distinctive offbeat energy that will click for some but not others. Her portrayal comes across as a bit too dry, notably when alongside Cox's vulnerable performance. (It should be noted, Gus the Dog is convincing at acting depressed – he may not be Messi from that acclaimed drama, he remains a scene-stealer.)
The film attempts to provide depth to the couple's history for scenes without their pet – which is unfortunate, since the title character is easily the most adorable aspect of this feel-good picture. As one might predict, it achieves only baseline competence. The catalyst for their separation might seem more grounded and mature with greater exploration and fewer direct statements. Ultimately, Merv is light and sugary, hitting all its marks. Crafting a story with this canine conflict is not terrible – though I wouldn't call it a brilliant concept.
- Merv becomes available on Amazon Prime Video this December.