It is a common warning for numerous people that jointly caring for a pet following a split is a terrible idea. The consensus suggests such arrangements prevent former couples from finding closure, lead to scheduling chaos, lead to tension, and are a nuisance across the board. Apparently, and in a twist worthy of a direct-to-platform film, it also makes the canine in question to become depressed.
Without minimizing the inner life of animals – many owners attest to their remarkable empathy. If you need prime example in dog sorrow, simply recall recent cinema. I firmly believe that a dog of Merv's nature, a wired-hair terrier mix brought to life by the canine actor Gus, would have a hard time adjusting to divided living arrangements. Whether this premise a full holiday film on this conflict holds water remains rather doubtful.Predictable Foundations
To its credit, Merv, the work of Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and under the guidance of playwright Jessica Swale, makes no grand claims more profound than a light film. This is a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the complexity are modest. The plot proves to be uncomplicated: exes Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna, portrayed by Zooey Deschanel, forced to acknowledge that their post-breakup gloom is rivaled only by their dog's, take a cheer-up vacation to a luxury pet hotel. Once there, as expected, they will undoubtedly realize the idea that they belong with each other. Ensemble players – including Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – serve as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Its aesthetic carries the feel of a streaming service original, with a wintry atmosphere that is clearly manufactured – exemplified by fake snow surrounding verdant foliage as a warm climate substitutes for the Northeast.
Where the Film Shines
If these familiar elements come together into an entertaining watch hinges on the strength of the performances and the viewer's appetite for easy entertainment. For the comfort factor, Merv targets a specific viewer – individuals who scroll endlessly for cute animal clips. Audiences receive a plethora of scenes focused on the pet. The central draw is the dog, and while this leads to some awkward editing between what the dog does and people's faces, the movie delivers on canine party antics, canine sorrow, and, in the end, a tail-wagging resolution.
Where It Wobbles
Such effectiveness cannot be applied for the interpersonal drama. The tone vacillates between relationship drama, wacky comedy, predictable love story, and outright slapstick, failing to master a single genre. No blame falls on the actor playing Russ, who is willing to embrace the humiliating and funny inherent in the unusual premise. His performance contains a charming humility that supplies a significant portion of the appeal for this on-the-rocks couple. Anna's portrayer, as is her trademark, brings a particular brand of eccentricity that will either resonate with viewers. Her Anna seems a touch too detached, notably when paired with Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (It should be noted, Gus the Dog is convincing at acting depressed – while no Messi from that acclaimed drama, he is still an excellent dog.)
The film attempts to provide depth to the central romance for scenes without their pet – a bit of a pity, given that Merv is by far the most adorable aspect of this film designed for charm. Expectedly, it achieves only baseline competence. The cause for their separation might seem more nuanced with greater exploration and less blunt explanation. In the end, Merv is gentle and pleasant, fulfilling precisely what you anticipate. Making a film with this canine conflict isn't a bad idea – but it's hardly a stroke of genius.
- Merv becomes available on the Amazon platform this December.
