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It is an often-repeated piece of advice for numerous people that co-parenting a canine companion post-separation is a terrible idea. The consensus suggests such situations prevent individuals from finding closure, create logistical nightmares, spark arguments, and become annoying for everyone involved. As it turns out, and in a twist fit for a direct-to-platform film, it can even cause the canine in question to become depressed.

Without minimizing the inner life of dogs – countless people speak of their deep emotional capacity. For a standout portrayal in pet despair, simply recall another performance. I firmly believe that a dog of Merv's nature, a scruffy terrier type portrayed by Gus the Dog, would have a hard time coping with divided living arrangements. The idea of basing a full holiday film around this situation works effectively seems debatable at best.

Predictable Foundations

To its credit, Merv, crafted by its screenwriters and under the guidance of director Swale, doesn't pretend to be deeper than its premise. This is a Christmas movie from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the complexity remains surface-level. The narrative proves to be straightforward: former spouses Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), realizing that their own sadness is rivaled only by their dog's, decide on a cheer-up vacation to a luxury pet hotel. At this location, predictably, they will surely rediscover the idea that they should reunite. The supporting cast – played by Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – serve as the usual assortment of types. Its aesthetic carries the feel of a branded content, with a Christmas setting that is visibly contrived – exemplified by obvious snow effects clinging to green trees as North Carolina substitutes for the Northeast.

The Canine Charisma

If these predictable parts come together into something enjoyable rests upon the actors' work and one's taste for comfort viewing. On the latter point, Merv hones in on a demographic – the kind who seek out for pet content. The film delivers a plethora of scenes focused on the pet. The central draw is Merv himself, and even if it causes some stilted moments between what the dog does and the actors' responses, the movie succeeds in showing walking sequences, canine sorrow, and, in the end, pure puppy happiness.

The Human Element

The same praise is not earned for the interpersonal drama. The film's approach vacillates between serious study, zany antics, formulaic romance, and silly gags, not quite landing a single genre. This is not the actor playing Russ, who is willing to embrace the humiliating and funny required by the dog resort scenario. Cox exhibits a endearing lack of ego that supplies much of the film's charm for this ostensibly perfect couple. Her co-star Deschanel, true to her usual style, imparts a distinctive offbeat energy that will be to your taste or not. Her Anna seems a little too aloof, particularly when paired with Cox's genuine sadness. (For what it's worth, the canine performer is convincing at flopping and whining – not quite Messi from that acclaimed drama, he remains an excellent dog.)

The film attempts to give weight to the central romance for scenes without their pet – a regrettable choice, since the dog is undoubtedly the best part of this film designed for charm. Unsurprisingly, it just about gets by. The cause for the split might seem more nuanced with more screen time and less blunt explanation. Ultimately, Merv is light and sugary, fulfilling all its marks. Creating a movie with this canine conflict is not terrible – though it's hardly a stroke of genius.

• Merv premieres on Prime Video this December.