It is a widely held belief in certain circles that jointly caring for a canine companion post-separation is a recipe for trouble. The consensus suggests such arrangements hinder individuals from moving forward, create logistical nightmares, lead to tension, and are a nuisance for everyone involved. As it turns out, as a development suited to a direct-to-platform film, it also makes our furry friends to feel down.
While respecting the inner life of animals – countless people observe their deep emotional capacity. For a prime example in pet despair, simply recall recent cinema. I firmly believe that a dog like Merv, a wired-hair terrier mix played by a talented dog named Gus, would struggle coping with divided living arrangements. The idea of basing an entire Christmas romance on such a setup is sustainable remains rather doubtful.A Familiar Formula
Honestly, Merv, written by its screenwriters and directed 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 complexity are modest. The narrative is destined to be uncomplicated: a separated couple Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), confronting that their own sadness is surpassed by their dog's, decide on a cheer-up vacation to a canine-centric retreat. Once there, as expected, they will undoubtedly realize the idea that they belong with each other. Ensemble players – including a group of comedic actors – are crafted as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Its aesthetic carries the feel of a platform's in-house production, with a wintry atmosphere that is clearly manufactured – as seen in flurries clinging to green trees as a warm climate stands in for the Northeast.
Where the Film Shines
How these standard ingredients merge into something enjoyable hinges on the actors' work and one's taste for easy entertainment. Regarding the second aspect, Merv knows its audience – individuals who seek out for cute animal clips. The film delivers a wealth of scenes focused on the pet. The primary selling point is Merv himself, and even if it causes some awkward editing between animal action and human reaction, the movie delivers on walking sequences, canine sorrow, and, in the end, doggie joy.
The Human Element
Such effectiveness is not earned for the romantic plot. Its style wavers between emotional depth, wacky comedy, formulaic romance, and outright slapstick, not quite landing a single genre. This is not the actor playing Russ, who is admirably committed the silliness and cringe inherent in the dog resort scenario. He brings a likable self-deprecation that offers a significant portion of the appeal for this on-the-rocks couple. Her co-star Deschanel, true to her usual style, brings a distinctive offbeat energy that will click for some but not others. The character comes across as a bit too dry, especially when alongside Cox's vulnerable performance. (It should be noted, Merv himself succeeds in flopping and whining – not quite Messi from that acclaimed drama, he is still a very good boy.)
Merv tries to provide depth to the couple's history for scenes without their pet – which is unfortunate, considering the title character is undoubtedly the best part of this film designed for charm. Unsurprisingly, it just about gets by. The catalyst for their separation could have been more adult and realistic with more screen time and more subtle storytelling. In the end, Merv is gentle and pleasant, hitting every expected note. Creating a movie with this canine conflict has potential – but it's hardly a brilliant concept.
- Merv streams on Prime Video on December 10th.
