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This is a widely held belief in certain circles that jointly caring for a pet following a split is a terrible idea. Experts frequently claim such arrangements hinder individuals from finding closure, cause practical headaches, spark arguments, and are a nuisance for everyone involved. As it turns out, as a development suited to a streaming movie, it also makes our furry friends to experience sadness.

While respecting the inner life of dogs – countless people speak of their deep emotional capacity. If you need prime example in pet despair, simply recall another performance. There is little doubt that a dog such as Merv, a wired-hair terrier mix brought to life by a talented dog named Gus, would struggle coping with split households. Whether this premise a full holiday film around this situation is sustainable seems rather doubtful.

A Familiar Formula

To its credit, Merv, the work of its screenwriters and helmed by playwright Jessica Swale, makes no grand claims anything more than what it is. We have here a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the complexity remains surface-level. The plot proves to be simple and direct: former spouses Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), confronting that their own sadness is rivaled only by their dog's, take a cheer-up vacation to a luxury pet hotel. At this location, predictably, they will surely rediscover the idea that they are better together. The supporting cast – played by a group of comedic actors – are crafted as quirky, thinly written, or broadly comic. The film's look carries the feel of a platform's in-house production, with a wintry atmosphere that is visibly contrived – think obvious snow effects clinging to green trees as North Carolina stands in for a cold December city.

Where the Film Shines

If these familiar elements coalesce into an entertaining watch depends on the actors' work and the viewer's appetite for cinematic comfort food. On the latter point, Merv hones in on a demographic – those people who scroll endlessly for pet content. The film delivers a wealth of scenes focused on the pet. The primary selling point is the dog, and though it results in some awkward editing between animal action and people's faces, the movie succeeds in showing walking sequences, canine sorrow, and, in the end, doggie joy.

The Human Element

The same praise is not earned for the interpersonal drama. Its style shifts uneasily between relationship drama, broad humor, predictable love story, and silly gags, never fully committing to a single genre. No blame falls on the actor playing Russ, who is willing to embrace the silliness and cringe inherent in the dog resort scenario. His performance contains a charming humility that supplies the bulk of the chemistry for this seemingly ideal couple. Anna's portrayer, as is her trademark, injects a certain millennial quirkiness that will click for some but not others. The character can feel a touch too detached, notably when contrasted against Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (On another note, Gus the Dog is convincing at acting depressed – he may not be the award-winner from Anatomy of a Fall, he is still a very good boy.)

Merv tries to provide depth to Anna and Russ's relationship for moments when the dog is absent – a regrettable choice, since the title character is easily the cutest element of this film designed for charm. Expectedly, it meets the bare minimum. The cause for their separation might seem more nuanced with greater exploration and fewer direct statements. Ultimately, Merv is slight and sweet, fulfilling every expected note. Making a film with this canine conflict is not terrible – but it's hardly a stroke of genius.

• Merv premieres on the Amazon platform this December.