This is an often-repeated piece of advice in certain circles that jointly caring for a canine companion after a breakup is ill-advised. Most will argue such situations prevent individuals from healing, lead to scheduling chaos, lead to tension, and become annoying for all parties. Seemingly, and in a twist suited to a direct-to-platform film, it reportedly leads to the dogs themselves to feel down.
While respecting the inner life of animals – many owners speak of their profound sensitivity. If you need prime example in canine melancholy, consider a past film. There is little doubt that a dog such as Merv, a wired-hair terrier mix brought to life by the canine actor Gus, would have a hard time adjusting to life in two homes. The idea of basing a feature-length romcom on this conflict works effectively is debatable at best.Standard Holiday Fare
Honestly, Merv, the work of Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and helmed by director Swale, makes no grand claims more profound than its premise. This is a Christmas movie from a corporate studio – the complexity remains surface-level. The narrative unfolds as uncomplicated: a separated couple Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna, portrayed by Zooey Deschanel, forced to acknowledge that their post-breakup gloom is surpassed by their dog's, take a uplifting getaway to a canine-centric retreat. There, inevitably, they will presumably rediscover the idea that they should reunite. Side characters – including Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – are crafted as the usual assortment of types. Its aesthetic is reminiscent of a branded content, with a Christmas setting that is visibly contrived – exemplified by fake snow clinging to lush pines as North Carolina doubles as the Northeast.
Where the Film Shines
Whether these predictable parts merge into an entertaining watch rests upon the actors' work and an acceptance of cinematic comfort food. On the latter point, Merv knows its audience – individuals who browse regularly for dog videos. The film delivers a series of scenes focused on the pet. The central draw is Merv himself, and even if it causes some stilted moments between the pet's "lines" and people's faces, the movie succeeds in showing canine party antics, dog depression, and, ultimately, doggie joy.
The Human Element
This level of success cannot be applied for the interpersonal drama. The film's approach wavers between serious study, zany antics, formulaic romance, and outright slapstick, not quite landing a consistent feel. This is not the actor playing Russ, who is fully game the absurd and awkward demanded of the bizarre setting. He brings a endearing lack of ego that offers a significant portion of the appeal 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 Anna seems a touch too detached, notably when alongside Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (It should be noted, the canine performer is convincing at looking despondent – while no a canine thespian of that caliber, he remains a scene-stealer.)
The film attempts to give weight to the central romance for moments when the dog is absent – a regrettable choice, given that the title character is easily the most adorable aspect of this film designed for charm. As one might predict, it just about gets by. The catalyst for their original breakup could have been more grounded and mature with more screen time and less blunt explanation. Ultimately, Merv is gentle and pleasant, fulfilling all its marks. Creating a movie with this canine conflict is not terrible – but it's not exactly a brilliant concept.
- Merv streams on Prime Video this December.
