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This is an often-repeated piece of advice among many that sharing custody a canine companion after a breakup is a recipe for trouble. The consensus suggests such situations hinder individuals from moving forward, cause practical headaches, lead to tension, and prove frustrating across the board. Seemingly, and in a twist suited to a streaming movie, it reportedly leads to the canine in question to feel down.

Not to downplay the inner life of our pets – pet parents observe their profound sensitivity. For a standout portrayal in dog sorrow, one need only look a past film. It seems certain that a dog such as Merv, a wired-hair terrier mix portrayed by a talented dog named Gus, would struggle adjusting to split households. If this concept an entire Christmas romance on this conflict holds water is a questionable prospect.

A Familiar Formula

Honestly, Merv, the work of the writing duo and directed by playwright Jessica Swale, makes no grand claims deeper than a light film. It functions as a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the complexity is limited. The plot is destined to be straightforward: exes Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), confronting that their own sadness is rivaled only by their dog's, decide on a uplifting getaway to a dog-friendly resort. At this location, predictably, they will undoubtedly rediscover the idea that they should reunite. Side characters – including Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – fulfill roles eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Its aesthetic carries the feel of a streaming service original, with a holiday backdrop that is visibly contrived – think obvious snow effects surrounding verdant foliage as a summer location substitutes for a wintery Boston.

The Canine Charisma

How these standard ingredients come together into a pleasant experience rests upon the strength of the performances and an acceptance of comfort viewing. Regarding the second aspect, Merv targets a specific viewer – individuals who scroll endlessly for cute animal clips. It provides a wealth of scenes focused on the pet. The primary selling point is Merv himself, and while this leads to some stilted moments between animal action and people's faces, the movie does offer walking sequences, dog depression, and, finally, a tail-wagging resolution.

The Human Element

This level of success is not earned for the human side of the story. The film's approach vacillates between emotional depth, wacky comedy, standard rom-com beats, and outright slapstick, failing to master a single genre. The fault lies not with the actor playing Russ, who is admirably committed the silliness and cringe required by the unusual premise. Cox exhibits a likable self-deprecation that supplies the bulk of the chemistry for this on-the-rocks couple. Anna's portrayer, true to her usual style, imparts a certain millennial quirkiness that will be to your taste or not. Her portrayal seems a touch too detached, especially when contrasted against Cox's genuine sadness. (For what it's worth, Merv himself succeeds in looking despondent – not quite a canine thespian of that caliber, he's definitely an excellent dog.)

Merv tries to provide depth to the couple's history for moments when the dog is absent – a bit of a pity, considering the title character is by far the most adorable aspect of this cute-aiming movie. As one might predict, it meets the bare minimum. The catalyst for their original breakup would feel more nuanced with less exposition and less blunt explanation. As it stands, Merv is gentle and pleasant, hitting every expected note. Creating a movie on this shared-custody premise isn't a bad idea – even if it's not exactly a great one either.

• Merv streams on Prime Video this December.