It is a widely held belief for numerous people that jointly caring for a pet following a split is a terrible idea. Most will argue such setups hinder ex-partners from moving forward, create logistical nightmares, spark arguments, and are a nuisance across the board. Seemingly, as a development worthy of a direct-to-platform film, it can even cause the canine in question to experience sadness.
Not to downplay the mental health of animals – pet parents attest to their profound sensitivity. For a prime example in canine melancholy, simply recall a past film. I firmly believe that a dog of Merv's nature, a spirited little dog portrayed by Gus the Dog, would have a hard time coping with divided living arrangements. Whether this premise a feature-length romcom on this conflict holds water seems rather doubtful.Predictable Foundations
Fairness demands noting, Merv, written by Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and helmed by director Swale, doesn't pretend to be deeper than its premise. It functions as a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the complexity remains surface-level. The plot is destined to be simple and direct: exes Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), forced to acknowledge that their individual funk is surpassed by their dog's, embark on a cheer-up vacation to a canine-centric retreat. At this location, predictably, they will presumably realize the idea that they belong with each other. Side characters – featuring a group of comedic actors – fulfill roles quirky, thinly written, or broadly comic. Its aesthetic is reminiscent of a branded content, with a Christmas setting that is visibly contrived – as seen in fake snow clinging to lush pines as a summer location substitutes for the Northeast.
The Canine Charisma
If these predictable parts merge into an entertaining watch rests upon the execution and one's taste for easy entertainment. For the comfort factor, Merv hones in on a demographic – the kind who browse regularly for dog videos. It provides a plethora of scenes focused on the pet. The primary selling point is Merv himself, and though it results in some awkward editing between what the dog does and people's faces, the movie delivers on canine party antics, pet moping, and, ultimately, doggie joy.
The Human Element
This level of success does not extend for the human side of the story. The tone shifts uneasily between serious study, zany antics, predictable love story, and outright slapstick, never fully committing to a consistent feel. No blame falls on Charlie Cox, who is fully game the humiliating and funny demanded of the bizarre setting. He brings a charming humility that supplies much of the film's charm for this ostensibly perfect couple. Anna's portrayer, as is her trademark, imparts a distinctive offbeat energy that will be to your taste or not. Her portrayal can feel a bit too dry, particularly when contrasted against Cox's genuine sadness. (For what it's worth, Merv himself is convincing at looking despondent – not quite Messi from that acclaimed drama, he remains a very good boy.)
The story strives to give weight to the couple's history for moments when the dog is absent – a regrettable choice, given that Merv is undoubtedly the best part of this film designed for charm. Unsurprisingly, it meets the bare minimum. The reason for the split could have been more grounded and mature with more screen time and more subtle storytelling. As it stands, Merv is slight and sweet, meeting precisely what you anticipate. Making a film with this canine conflict isn't a bad idea – but I wouldn't call it a great one either.
- Merv streams on Prime Video this December.
