It is a common warning for numerous people that sharing custody a canine companion post-separation is a recipe for trouble. Most will argue such situations impede ex-partners from moving forward, cause practical headaches, fuel disputes, and prove frustrating for everyone involved. Seemingly, in a revelation fit for a direct-to-platform film, it can even cause the canine in question to feel down.
Without minimizing the inner life of dogs – countless people attest to their profound sensitivity. If you need prime example in dog sorrow, consider another performance. There is little doubt that a dog like Merv, a wired-hair terrier mix brought to life by the canine actor Gus, would find it difficult adjusting to divided living arrangements. The idea of basing a feature-length romcom on this conflict is sustainable remains rather doubtful.Standard Holiday Fare
To its credit, Merv, the work of its screenwriters and directed by playwright Jessica Swale, makes no grand claims more profound than its premise. It functions as a holiday release from a corporate studio – the complexity is limited. Its storyline unfolds as simple and direct: a separated couple Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), realizing that their own sadness is matched by their dog's, decide on a uplifting getaway to a luxury pet hotel. Once there, as expected, they will presumably rediscover the idea that they belong with each other. Ensemble players – featuring a group of comedic actors – are crafted as the usual assortment of types. The film's look has the quality of a branded content, with a Christmas setting that is obviously artificial – exemplified by obvious snow effects piled on lush pines as North Carolina substitutes for the Northeast.
The Canine Charisma
Whether these familiar elements merge into something enjoyable rests upon the actors' work and the viewer's appetite for comfort viewing. Regarding the second aspect, Merv hones in on a demographic – individuals who browse regularly for dog videos. It provides a series of adorable dog montages. The primary selling point is Merv himself, and even if it causes some clunky cuts between the pet's "lines" and people's faces, the movie succeeds in showing canine party antics, canine sorrow, and, finally, pure puppy happiness.
The Human Element
This level of success is not earned for the human side of the story. Its style vacillates between emotional depth, broad humor, predictable love story, and silly gags, not quite landing any one mode. The fault lies not with the actor playing Russ, who is admirably committed the humiliating and funny required by the dog resort scenario. His performance contains a endearing lack of ego that offers the bulk of the chemistry for this seemingly ideal couple. Anna's portrayer, in her typical fashion, imparts a particular brand of eccentricity that will click for some but not others. The character comes across as a bit too dry, notably when alongside Cox's genuine sadness. (It should be noted, Gus the Dog manages looking despondent – while no a canine thespian of that caliber, he's definitely a scene-stealer.)
The story strives to add substance to the central romance for moments when the dog is absent – a bit of a pity, considering the title character is easily the best part of this film designed for charm. Expectedly, it meets the bare minimum. The catalyst for their separation could have been more nuanced with more screen time and less blunt explanation. As it stands, Merv is light and sugary, meeting every expected note. Creating a movie on this shared-custody premise is not terrible – though it's hardly a great one either.
- Merv streams on the Amazon platform this December.
