This is an often-repeated piece of advice for numerous people that jointly caring for a canine companion following a split is a recipe for trouble. The consensus suggests such situations impede individuals from moving forward, lead to scheduling chaos, lead to tension, and become annoying across the board. Apparently, in a revelation fit for a direct-to-platform film, it can even cause our furry friends to become depressed.
While respecting the mental health of our pets – many owners speak of their remarkable empathy. If you need prime example in dog sorrow, simply recall a past film. I firmly believe that a dog such as Merv, a wired-hair terrier mix portrayed by the canine actor Gus, would struggle adapting to divided living arrangements. If this concept a full holiday film on this conflict works effectively seems debatable at best.Standard Holiday Fare
Fairness demands noting, Merv, written by Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and helmed by Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be deeper than its premise. This is a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the ambitions is limited. Its storyline unfolds as straightforward: exes Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), forced to acknowledge that their individual funk is matched by their dog's, embark 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. Side characters – including a group of comedic actors – fulfill roles quirky, thinly written, or broadly comic. Visually carries the feel of a branded content, with a wintry atmosphere that is clearly manufactured – think obvious snow effects clinging to green trees as North Carolina doubles as the Northeast.
The Canine Charisma
Whether these familiar elements merge into a pleasant experience hinges on the execution and an acceptance of cinematic comfort food. On the latter point, Merv hones in on a demographic – those people who scroll endlessly for pet content. It provides a wealth of canine-centric sequences. The primary selling point is Merv himself, and while this leads to some stilted moments between the pet's "lines" and the actors' responses, the movie does offer walking sequences, dog depression, and, in the end, a tail-wagging resolution.
Where It Wobbles
The same praise does not extend for the human side of the story. Its style shifts uneasily between relationship drama, wacky comedy, formulaic romance, and physical comedy, never fully committing to a consistent feel. No blame falls on the actor playing Russ, who is willing to embrace the absurd and awkward inherent in the bizarre setting. His performance contains a likable self-deprecation that supplies much of the film's charm for this on-the-rocks couple. Anna's portrayer, true to her usual style, imparts a distinctive offbeat energy that will either resonate with viewers. Her portrayal seems a touch too detached, particularly when contrasted against Cox's genuine sadness. (It should be noted, Merv himself succeeds in flopping and whining – while no the award-winner from Anatomy of a Fall, he remains a very good boy.)
The film attempts to provide depth to Anna and Russ's relationship for scenes without their pet – a regrettable choice, given that the title character is by far the most adorable aspect of this film designed for charm. As one might predict, it meets the bare minimum. The cause for the split would feel more grounded and mature with more screen time and less blunt explanation. Ultimately, Merv is gentle and pleasant, meeting precisely what you anticipate. Making a film about dog co-parenting is not terrible – but it's hardly a stroke of genius.
- Merv streams on the Amazon platform this December.
