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It is a widely held belief among many that jointly caring for a pet after a breakup is a recipe for trouble. Most will argue such setups prevent former couples from finding closure, lead to scheduling chaos, spark arguments, and are a nuisance across the board. As it turns out, as a development fit for a streaming movie, it can even cause our furry friends to become depressed.

While respecting the mental health of our pets – pet parents observe their profound sensitivity. For a standout portrayal in dog sorrow, consider recent cinema. I firmly believe that a dog like Merv, a spirited little dog portrayed by Gus the Dog, would struggle adjusting to split households. If this concept an entire Christmas romance on this conflict is sustainable is rather doubtful.

Predictable Foundations

Honestly, Merv, the work of Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and helmed by playwright Jessica Swale, makes no grand claims deeper than its premise. We have here a holiday release from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the complexity is limited. Its storyline proves to be straightforward: a separated couple Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), confronting that their individual funk is surpassed by their dog's, decide on a cheer-up vacation to a canine-centric retreat. At this location, predictably, they will presumably rediscover the idea that they are better together. Side characters – played by Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – are crafted as the usual assortment of types. Visually is reminiscent of a platform's in-house production, with a holiday backdrop that is obviously artificial – exemplified by fake snow surrounding verdant foliage as North Carolina substitutes for a wintery Boston.

The Dog's Domain

How these familiar elements merge into something enjoyable hinges on the strength of the performances and an acceptance of easy entertainment. On the latter point, Merv knows its audience – the kind who seek out for pet content. The film delivers a series of canine-centric sequences. The main attraction is the dog, and though it results in some awkward editing between animal action and the actors' responses, the movie succeeds in showing canine party antics, dog depression, and, in the end, pure puppy happiness.

Where It Wobbles

Such effectiveness cannot be applied for the interpersonal drama. The film's approach wavers between serious study, broad humor, predictable love story, and physical comedy, failing to master a single genre. This is not the actor playing Russ, who is fully game the silliness and cringe demanded of the bizarre setting. His performance contains a likable self-deprecation that provides much of the film's charm for this ostensibly perfect couple. Anna's portrayer, true to her usual style, injects a certain millennial quirkiness that will be to your taste or not. Her portrayal seems a little too aloof, particularly when contrasted against Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (For what it's worth, the canine performer succeeds in looking despondent – not quite a canine thespian of that caliber, he's definitely a very good boy.)

The story strives to add substance to Anna and Russ's relationship for moments when the dog is absent – a regrettable choice, since the dog is by far the best part of this feel-good picture. Expectedly, it meets the bare minimum. The cause for their separation could have been more nuanced with less exposition and less blunt explanation. Ultimately, Merv is gentle and pleasant, meeting every expected note. Crafting a story on this shared-custody premise is not terrible – though it's not exactly a great one either.

• Merv streams on Prime Video this December.