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It is a widely held belief in certain circles that sharing custody a canine companion following a split is ill-advised. The consensus suggests such setups impede ex-partners from finding closure, cause practical headaches, lead to tension, and are a nuisance for everyone involved. Seemingly, and in a twist fit for a direct-to-platform film, it reportedly leads to our furry friends to become depressed.

Without minimizing the emotional well-being of animals – many owners observe their deep emotional capacity. To witness a prime example in pet despair, consider recent cinema. It seems certain that a dog of Merv's nature, a scruffy terrier type played by a talented dog named Gus, would struggle adjusting to split households. The idea of basing a full holiday film on this conflict works effectively is rather doubtful.

Standard Holiday Fare

Honestly, Merv, written by the writing duo and under the guidance of playwright Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be anything more than its premise. This is a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the complexity remains surface-level. The narrative proves to be straightforward: exes Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna, portrayed by Zooey Deschanel, confronting that their individual funk is matched by their dog's, embark on a uplifting getaway to a luxury pet hotel. There, inevitably, they will surely rediscover the idea that they belong with each other. Ensemble players – including a group of comedic actors – are crafted as quirky, thinly written, or broadly comic. Its aesthetic is reminiscent of a streaming service original, with a holiday backdrop that is visibly contrived – as seen in fake snow clinging to green trees as North Carolina substitutes for a wintery Boston.

Where the Film Shines

If these standard ingredients merge into an entertaining watch depends on the actors' work and one's taste for cinematic comfort food. For the comfort factor, Merv targets a specific viewer – individuals who seek out for pet content. It provides a plethora of scenes focused on the pet. The main attraction is Merv himself, and even if it causes some awkward editing between animal action and the actors' responses, the movie delivers on walking sequences, canine sorrow, and, in the end, doggie joy.

Where It Wobbles

Such effectiveness does not extend for the romantic plot. Its style vacillates between serious study, zany antics, standard rom-com beats, and outright slapstick, never fully committing to a consistent feel. The fault lies not with Charlie Cox, who is fully game the silliness and cringe demanded of the bizarre setting. His performance contains a endearing lack of ego that supplies the bulk of the chemistry for this seemingly ideal couple. Anna's portrayer, as is her trademark, imparts a certain millennial quirkiness that will be to your taste or not. Her Anna can feel a touch too detached, especially when contrasted against Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (For what it's worth, Gus the Dog is convincing at acting depressed – while no Messi from that acclaimed drama, he's definitely a very good boy.)

Merv tries to provide depth to the central romance for sequences focusing solely on them – a bit of a pity, since the dog is undoubtedly the cutest element of this feel-good picture. Expectedly, it achieves only baseline competence. The cause for their original breakup could have been more grounded and mature with less exposition and fewer direct statements. As it stands, Merv is slight and sweet, meeting all its marks. Making a film about dog co-parenting has potential – though I wouldn't call it a great one either.

• Merv premieres on Amazon Prime Video this December.