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It is a common warning among many that jointly caring for a dog post-separation is a recipe for trouble. The consensus suggests such arrangements hinder individuals from moving forward, lead to scheduling chaos, spark arguments, and are a nuisance for all parties. Apparently, and in a twist suited to a direct-to-platform film, it also makes the dogs themselves to become depressed.

Not to downplay the inner life of our pets – countless people speak of their remarkable empathy. If you need prime example in pet despair, simply recall a past film. I firmly believe that a dog of Merv's nature, a scruffy terrier type brought to life by the canine actor Gus, would find it difficult adjusting to divided living arrangements. The idea of basing a feature-length romcom on this conflict is sustainable remains rather doubtful.

A Familiar Formula

Fairness demands noting, Merv, written by the writing duo and under the guidance of playwright Jessica Swale, makes no grand claims more profound than its premise. It functions as a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the depth is limited. The plot unfolds as straightforward: former spouses Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna, portrayed by Zooey Deschanel, realizing that their post-breakup gloom is matched by their dog's, decide on a uplifting getaway to a dog-friendly resort. There, inevitably, they will undoubtedly rediscover the idea that they should reunite. Ensemble players – played by a group of comedic actors – are crafted as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. The film's look is reminiscent of a platform's in-house production, with a holiday backdrop that is visibly contrived – exemplified by obvious snow effects surrounding lush pines as a summer location stands in for a cold December city.

Where the Film Shines

If these predictable parts merge into a pleasant experience depends on the strength of the performances and one's taste for cinematic comfort food. On the latter point, Merv knows its audience – individuals who browse regularly for pet content. The film delivers a plethora of scenes focused on the pet. The central draw is Merv himself, and while this leads to some awkward editing between the pet's "lines" and the actors' responses, the movie does offer canine party antics, pet moping, and, ultimately, doggie joy.

The Human Element

Such effectiveness is not earned for the romantic plot. Its style shifts uneasily between relationship drama, wacky comedy, predictable love story, and physical comedy, never fully committing to a single genre. This is not Cox's performance, who is willing to embrace the silliness and cringe required by the unusual premise. Cox exhibits a endearing lack of ego that offers a significant portion of the appeal for this ostensibly perfect couple. Anna's portrayer, in her typical fashion, brings a particular brand of eccentricity that will click for some but not others. The character comes across as a bit too dry, especially when alongside Cox's genuine sadness. (On another note, Gus the Dog succeeds in looking despondent – not quite a canine thespian of that caliber, he's definitely an excellent dog.)

The story strives to provide depth to the couple's history for moments when the dog is absent – a regrettable choice, since Merv is by far the best part of this feel-good picture. As one might predict, it achieves only baseline competence. The catalyst 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, hitting every expected note. Crafting a story on this shared-custody premise is not terrible – though I wouldn't call it a stroke of genius.

• Merv streams on the Amazon platform starting December 10.