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It is a widely held belief for numerous people that co-parenting a pet post-separation is a recipe for trouble. The consensus suggests such situations hinder former couples from healing, cause practical headaches, spark arguments, and prove frustrating for all parties. Seemingly, in a revelation suited to a streaming movie, it also makes the dogs themselves to feel down.

While respecting the emotional well-being of animals – pet parents observe their profound sensitivity. To witness a standout portrayal in pet despair, consider a past film. It seems certain that a dog of Merv's nature, a wired-hair terrier mix brought to life by Gus the Dog, would find it difficult adjusting to divided living arrangements. The idea of basing a full holiday film on such a setup works effectively seems debatable at best.

Predictable Foundations

To its credit, Merv, the work of its screenwriters and under the guidance of playwright Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be anything more than a light film. It functions as a holiday release from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the ambitions remains surface-level. Its storyline is destined to be uncomplicated: a separated couple Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), realizing that their post-breakup gloom is surpassed by their dog's, embark on a cheer-up vacation to a canine-centric retreat. Once there, as expected, they will undoubtedly rediscover the idea that they are better together. Ensemble players – featuring a group of comedic actors – serve as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Its aesthetic is reminiscent of a streaming service original, with a Christmas setting that is visibly contrived – exemplified by fake snow piled on lush pines as a warm climate stands in for the Northeast.

Where the Film Shines

If these standard ingredients coalesce into an entertaining watch hinges on the execution and the viewer's appetite for easy entertainment. On the latter point, Merv knows its audience – the kind who browse regularly for pet content. It provides a plethora of canine-centric sequences. The main attraction is Merv himself, and even if it causes some awkward editing between animal action and people's faces, the movie delivers on canine party antics, dog depression, and, ultimately, doggie joy.

Where It Wobbles

The same praise is not earned for the romantic plot. Its style vacillates between relationship drama, zany antics, formulaic romance, and physical comedy, not quite landing a consistent feel. This is not the actor playing Russ, who is admirably committed the absurd and awkward demanded of the bizarre setting. His performance contains a likable self-deprecation that supplies much of the film's charm for this ostensibly perfect couple. Anna's portrayer, as is her trademark, brings a particular brand of eccentricity that will be to your taste or not. Her Anna can feel a bit too dry, especially when alongside Cox's genuine sadness. (It should be noted, the canine performer is convincing at acting depressed – he may not be the award-winner from Anatomy of a Fall, he's definitely a very good boy.)

The story strives to give weight to the couple's history for scenes without their pet – a regrettable choice, given that the title character is by far the cutest element of this feel-good picture. Unsurprisingly, it meets the bare minimum. The catalyst for the split could have been more grounded and mature with more screen time and less blunt explanation. In the end, Merv is gentle and pleasant, hitting every expected note. Crafting a story with this canine conflict isn't a bad idea – though I wouldn't call it a stroke of genius.

• Merv streams on Prime Video this December.