It is a common warning for numerous people that jointly caring for a canine companion post-separation is a terrible idea. Most will argue such setups hinder former couples from healing, create logistical nightmares, fuel disputes, and prove frustrating for all parties. As it turns out, in a revelation fit for a direct-to-platform film, it also makes our furry friends to become depressed.
Without minimizing the mental health of our pets – pet parents attest to their deep emotional capacity. For a masterclass in canine melancholy, simply recall a past film. I firmly believe that a dog such as Merv, a wired-hair terrier mix portrayed by Gus the Dog, would struggle adjusting to divided living arrangements. If this concept a feature-length romcom on this conflict works effectively is debatable at best.Predictable Foundations
Honestly, Merv, written by the writing duo and helmed by playwright Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be deeper than what it is. We have here a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the ambitions is limited. The plot unfolds as straightforward: former spouses Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), realizing that their own sadness is surpassed by their dog's, embark on a uplifting getaway to a canine-centric retreat. Once there, as expected, they will undoubtedly rediscover the idea that they belong with each other. The supporting cast – played by Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – are crafted as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Its aesthetic is reminiscent of a branded content, with a holiday backdrop that is obviously artificial – exemplified by obvious snow effects clinging to green trees as a summer location doubles as the Northeast.
Where the Film Shines
If these standard ingredients merge into something enjoyable depends on the strength of the performances and an acceptance of cinematic comfort food. On the latter point, Merv knows its audience – those people who browse regularly for cute animal clips. The film delivers a series of adorable dog montages. The primary selling point is the dog, and though it results in some clunky cuts between the pet's "lines" and people's faces, the movie delivers on canine party antics, dog depression, and, finally, doggie joy.
Where It Wobbles
The same praise is not earned for the human side of the story. The film's approach shifts uneasily between relationship drama, broad humor, predictable love story, and silly gags, not quite landing a single genre. This is not Cox's performance, who is fully game the silliness and cringe inherent in the dog resort scenario. Cox exhibits a likable self-deprecation that offers a significant portion of the appeal for this seemingly ideal couple. Her co-star Deschanel, as is her trademark, brings a distinctive offbeat energy that will either resonate with viewers. Her portrayal comes across as a touch too detached, especially when alongside Cox's vulnerable performance. (For what it's worth, the canine performer manages looking despondent – not quite Messi from that acclaimed drama, he remains an excellent dog.)
The film attempts to give weight to the central romance for moments when the dog is absent – a regrettable choice, since the title character is easily the cutest element of this feel-good picture. Expectedly, it meets the bare minimum. The catalyst for the split could have been more adult and realistic with greater exploration and less blunt explanation. In the end, Merv is gentle and pleasant, meeting precisely what you anticipate. Making a film on this shared-custody premise has potential – even if it's hardly a brilliant concept.
- Merv streams on Amazon Prime Video on December 10th.
