It is an often-repeated piece of advice in certain circles that jointly caring for a pet after a breakup is a terrible idea. Experts frequently claim such setups hinder former couples from finding closure, lead to scheduling chaos, fuel disputes, and become annoying for all parties. Seemingly, in a revelation suited to a streaming movie, it can even cause our furry friends to become depressed.
While respecting the emotional well-being of our pets – countless people observe their deep emotional capacity. For a prime example in pet despair, consider recent cinema. I firmly believe that a dog such as Merv, a spirited little dog played by the canine actor Gus, would struggle coping with split households. If this concept a feature-length romcom on this conflict is sustainable seems rather doubtful.Predictable Foundations
To its credit, Merv, crafted by Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and helmed by playwright Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be more profound than what it is. It functions as a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the ambitions remains surface-level. Its storyline proves to be simple and direct: a separated couple Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna, portrayed by Zooey Deschanel, realizing that their own sadness is matched by their dog's, embark on a therapeutic trip to a luxury pet hotel. At this location, predictably, they will surely rediscover the idea that they are better together. Side characters – including a group of comedic actors – fulfill roles the usual assortment of types. Its aesthetic is reminiscent of a branded content, with a wintry atmosphere that is obviously artificial – as seen in flurries clinging to green trees as a warm climate doubles as a wintery Boston.
The Canine Charisma
If these predictable parts merge into a pleasant experience rests upon the strength of the performances and an acceptance of cinematic comfort food. Regarding the second aspect, Merv hones in on a demographic – those people who scroll endlessly for cute animal clips. It provides a plethora of scenes focused on the pet. The primary selling point is Merv himself, and while this leads to some stilted moments between animal action and people's faces, the movie succeeds in showing canine party antics, dog depression, and, ultimately, doggie joy.
Where It Wobbles
Such effectiveness is not earned for the human side of the story. The tone wavers between relationship drama, wacky comedy, standard rom-com beats, and physical comedy, failing to master a consistent feel. This is not the actor playing Russ, who is willing to embrace the absurd and awkward inherent in the dog resort scenario. He brings a likable self-deprecation that offers much of the film's charm for this on-the-rocks couple. Anna's portrayer, true to her usual style, brings a certain millennial quirkiness that will be to your taste or not. Her Anna comes across as a touch too detached, especially when paired with Cox's genuine sadness. (For what it's worth, Merv himself manages acting depressed – while no the award-winner from Anatomy of a Fall, 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, since Merv is undoubtedly the most adorable aspect of this film designed for charm. Expectedly, it achieves only baseline competence. The reason for their separation might seem more nuanced with greater exploration and fewer direct statements. Ultimately, Merv is gentle and pleasant, fulfilling all its marks. Crafting a story on this shared-custody premise has potential – even if I wouldn't call it a brilliant concept.
- Merv streams on the Amazon platform starting December 10.
