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It is an often-repeated piece of advice for numerous people that jointly caring for a canine companion after a breakup is a recipe for trouble. Most will argue such situations prevent individuals from healing, create logistical nightmares, lead to tension, and prove frustrating for everyone involved. Apparently, in a revelation worthy of a direct-to-platform film, it can even cause the dogs themselves to become depressed.

Without minimizing the mental health of animals – countless people speak of their deep emotional capacity. To witness a prime example in canine melancholy, consider recent cinema. I firmly believe that a dog of Merv's nature, a wired-hair terrier mix played by Gus the Dog, would have a hard time coping with divided living arrangements. Whether this premise an entire Christmas romance around this situation works effectively seems debatable at best.

A Familiar Formula

To its credit, Merv, the work of Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and directed by playwright Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be deeper than a light film. It functions as a seasonal offering from a streaming platform giant – the depth are modest. The narrative is destined to be straightforward: a separated couple Russ, played by Charlie Cox and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), forced to acknowledge that their post-breakup gloom is rivaled only by their dog's, decide on a cheer-up vacation to a canine-centric retreat. At this location, predictably, they will undoubtedly realize the idea that they should reunite. Side characters – featuring familiar faces – are crafted as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Visually is reminiscent of a platform's in-house production, with a wintry atmosphere that is obviously artificial – think obvious snow effects clinging to lush pines as a warm climate substitutes for a cold December city.

Where the Film Shines

Whether these predictable parts coalesce into a pleasant experience depends on the strength of the performances and one's taste for cinematic comfort food. Regarding the second aspect, Merv targets a specific viewer – those people who scroll endlessly for dog videos. Audiences receive a series of scenes focused on the pet. The primary selling point is the dog, and though it results in some clunky cuts between animal action and people's faces, the movie succeeds in showing walking sequences, dog depression, and, finally, doggie joy.

Where It Wobbles

Such effectiveness is not earned for the romantic plot. Its style wavers between emotional depth, zany antics, standard rom-com beats, and outright slapstick, not quite landing any one mode. This is not the actor playing Russ, who is willing to embrace the humiliating and funny inherent in the bizarre setting. His performance contains a endearing lack of ego that provides the bulk of the chemistry for this on-the-rocks couple. Anna's portrayer, in her typical fashion, brings a particular brand of eccentricity that will click for some but not others. Her Anna seems a touch too detached, particularly when paired with Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (On another note, the canine performer manages looking despondent – not quite Messi from that acclaimed drama, he remains a very good boy.)

The film attempts to give weight to the couple's history for scenes without their pet – a bit of a pity, since Merv is undoubtedly the cutest element of this feel-good picture. Expectedly, it achieves only baseline competence. The cause for the split would feel more adult and realistic with less exposition and more subtle storytelling. As it stands, Merv is slight and sweet, fulfilling precisely what you anticipate. Creating a movie on this shared-custody premise has potential – though I wouldn't call it a stroke of genius.

• Merv streams on Amazon Prime Video this December.