It is an often-repeated piece of advice for numerous people that sharing custody a canine companion post-separation is a recipe for trouble. Most will argue such situations impede individuals from finding closure, cause practical headaches, spark arguments, and prove frustrating across the board. As it turns out, as a development suited to a direct-to-platform film, it also makes the canine in question to become depressed.
While respecting the mental health of our pets – many owners observe their remarkable empathy. To witness a standout portrayal in pet despair, simply recall another performance. I firmly believe that a dog such as Merv, a wired-hair terrier mix portrayed by Gus the Dog, would struggle adapting to divided living arrangements. The idea of basing a feature-length romcom on such a setup holds water is rather doubtful.A Familiar Formula
Honestly, Merv, crafted by Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and helmed by Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be anything more than a light film. We have here a holiday release from a streaming platform giant – the depth are modest. The narrative proves to be uncomplicated: former spouses Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna, portrayed by Zooey Deschanel, forced to acknowledge that their own sadness 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 should reunite. Side characters – played by a group of comedic actors – fulfill roles eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Visually carries the feel of a streaming service original, with a holiday backdrop that is obviously artificial – as seen in flurries surrounding green trees as a summer location substitutes for the Northeast.
The Canine Charisma
If these standard ingredients come together into something enjoyable depends on the execution and an acceptance of easy entertainment. On the latter point, Merv targets a specific viewer – those people who browse regularly for pet content. The film delivers a wealth of adorable dog montages. The primary selling point is the canine star, and even if it causes some clunky cuts between the pet's "lines" and human reaction, the movie delivers on canine party antics, canine sorrow, and, ultimately, a tail-wagging resolution.
The Human Element
This level of success is not earned for the romantic plot. The tone vacillates between emotional depth, broad humor, formulaic romance, and outright slapstick, failing to master a single genre. No blame falls on Charlie Cox, who is fully game the absurd and awkward inherent in the bizarre setting. His performance contains a likable self-deprecation that provides much of the film's charm for this ostensibly perfect couple. Anna's portrayer, in her typical fashion, brings a certain millennial quirkiness that will be to your taste or not. Her portrayal comes across as a touch too detached, especially when paired with Cox's genuine sadness. (It should be noted, Gus the Dog succeeds in flopping and whining – not quite a canine thespian of that caliber, he is still an excellent dog.)
The story strives to add substance to the central romance for moments when the dog is absent – a bit of a pity, given that the dog is easily the most adorable aspect of this film designed for charm. As one might predict, it achieves only baseline competence. The cause for their separation could have been more adult and realistic with less exposition and more subtle storytelling. In the end, Merv is gentle and pleasant, hitting precisely what you anticipate. Crafting a story on this shared-custody premise isn't a bad idea – but I wouldn't call it a brilliant concept.
- Merv premieres on the Amazon platform this December.
