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It is a common warning in certain circles that sharing custody a dog post-separation is a recipe for trouble. The consensus suggests such setups hinder ex-partners from finding closure, lead to scheduling chaos, fuel disputes, and become annoying for all parties. Apparently, as a development suited to a direct-to-platform film, it can even cause the canine in question to become depressed.

While respecting the mental health of animals – pet parents speak of their deep emotional capacity. For a prime example in dog sorrow, one need only look another performance. It seems certain that a dog such as Merv, a wired-hair terrier mix brought to life by Gus the Dog, would have a hard time coping with split households. The idea of basing a feature-length romcom on this conflict holds water seems debatable at best.

Predictable Foundations

To its credit, Merv, the work of Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and directed by playwright Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be deeper than a light film. It functions as a holiday release from a corporate studio – the complexity are modest. The narrative unfolds as straightforward: a separated couple Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna, portrayed by Zooey Deschanel, confronting that their individual funk is surpassed by their dog's, embark on a cheer-up vacation to a dog-friendly resort. There, inevitably, they will surely realize the idea that they belong with each other. Side characters – played by a group of comedic actors – are crafted as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Its aesthetic is reminiscent of a platform's in-house production, with a wintry atmosphere that is clearly manufactured – think fake snow piled on lush pines as North Carolina stands in for a wintery Boston.

The Canine Charisma

If these predictable parts come together into something enjoyable rests upon the actors' work and the viewer's appetite for easy entertainment. On the latter point, Merv hones in on a demographic – the kind who scroll endlessly for dog videos. Audiences receive a wealth of scenes focused on the pet. The primary selling point is the canine star, and while this leads to some awkward editing between animal action and the actors' responses, the movie does offer walking sequences, pet moping, and, in the end, doggie joy.

Where It Wobbles

Such effectiveness cannot be applied for the interpersonal drama. The tone vacillates between emotional depth, wacky comedy, standard rom-com beats, and outright slapstick, never fully committing to a single genre. No blame falls on Cox's performance, who is admirably committed the silliness and cringe inherent in the dog resort scenario. His performance contains a charming humility that supplies a significant portion of the appeal for this ostensibly perfect couple. Anna's portrayer, true to her usual style, injects a certain millennial quirkiness that will either resonate with viewers. Her portrayal can feel a bit too dry, particularly when alongside Cox's vulnerable performance. (It should be noted, Merv himself manages looking despondent – not quite the award-winner from Anatomy of a Fall, he remains a scene-stealer.)

The film attempts to provide depth to the central romance for scenes without their pet – which is unfortunate, considering Merv is easily the cutest element of this feel-good picture. Unsurprisingly, it meets the bare minimum. The reason for their original breakup would feel more nuanced with more screen time and more subtle storytelling. Ultimately, Merv is light and sugary, hitting every expected note. Crafting a story about dog co-parenting has potential – even if I wouldn't call it a brilliant concept.

• Merv premieres on Amazon Prime Video this December.