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This is a widely held belief among many that jointly caring for a canine companion post-separation is a terrible idea. The consensus suggests such arrangements impede former couples from healing, lead to scheduling chaos, fuel disputes, and are a nuisance for all parties. As it turns out, in a revelation suited to a direct-to-platform film, it reportedly leads to the canine in question to feel down.

Without minimizing the inner life of animals – many owners observe their profound sensitivity. For a prime example in canine melancholy, simply recall another performance. I firmly believe that a dog of Merv's nature, a scruffy terrier type played by a talented dog named Gus, would have a hard time adapting to life in two homes. If this concept an entire Christmas romance around this situation holds water seems debatable at best.

Predictable Foundations

To its credit, Merv, crafted by its screenwriters and under the guidance of playwright Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be more profound than a light film. We have here a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the ambitions is limited. The plot proves to be simple and direct: former spouses Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), confronting that their individual funk is matched by their dog's, embark on a therapeutic trip to a dog-friendly resort. There, inevitably, they will presumably rediscover the idea that they belong with each other. Side characters – featuring Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – fulfill roles eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. The film's look carries the feel of a streaming service original, with a wintry atmosphere that is clearly manufactured – exemplified by obvious snow effects clinging to lush pines as a summer location stands in for a wintery Boston.

The Canine Charisma

How these familiar elements coalesce into an entertaining watch rests upon the strength of the performances and an acceptance of easy entertainment. Regarding the second aspect, Merv knows its audience – the kind who scroll endlessly for pet content. Audiences receive a wealth of canine-centric sequences. The main attraction is Merv himself, and though it results in some awkward editing between what the dog does and people's faces, the movie succeeds in showing canine party antics, pet moping, and, in the end, a tail-wagging resolution.

The Human Element

Such effectiveness does not extend for the human side of the story. The film's approach shifts uneasily between relationship drama, zany antics, predictable love story, and silly gags, never fully committing to a single genre. No blame falls on Charlie Cox, who is admirably committed the absurd and awkward inherent in the dog resort scenario. His performance contains a charming humility that supplies much of the film's charm for this on-the-rocks couple. Anna's portrayer, true to her usual style, brings a certain millennial quirkiness that will click for some but not others. Her portrayal can feel a touch too detached, particularly when paired with Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (It should be noted, Gus the Dog manages acting depressed – not quite Messi from that acclaimed drama, he is still an excellent dog.)

The story strives to give weight to the central romance for moments when the dog is absent – a regrettable choice, given that Merv is by far the cutest element of this cute-aiming movie. Expectedly, it meets the bare minimum. The catalyst for the split might seem more adult and realistic with less exposition and less blunt explanation. In the end, Merv is gentle and pleasant, fulfilling every expected note. Making a film about dog co-parenting has potential – but it's hardly a brilliant concept.

• Merv streams on Prime Video on December 10th.