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This is a common warning among many that co-parenting a dog following a split is a recipe for trouble. The consensus suggests such arrangements impede individuals from healing, create logistical nightmares, fuel disputes, and become annoying for everyone involved. Apparently, and in a twist worthy of a streaming movie, it reportedly leads to the canine in question to experience sadness.

Not to downplay the emotional well-being of dogs – countless people observe their profound sensitivity. For a prime example in dog sorrow, one need only look 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 struggle adjusting to divided living arrangements. Whether this premise a full holiday film on such a setup is sustainable seems rather doubtful.

A Familiar Formula

Honestly, Merv, crafted by Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and under the guidance of Jessica Swale, never aspires to be anything more than what it is. It functions as a seasonal offering from a corporate studio – the complexity are modest. Its storyline is destined to be simple and direct: a separated couple Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), forced to acknowledge that their individual funk is rivaled only by their dog's, take a therapeutic trip to a dog-friendly resort. There, inevitably, they will undoubtedly realize the idea that they belong with each other. Ensemble players – featuring familiar faces – serve as quirky, thinly written, or broadly comic. Its aesthetic carries the feel of a platform's in-house production, with a Christmas setting that is visibly contrived – think flurries piled on green trees as a summer location substitutes for the Northeast.

Where the Film Shines

How these familiar elements coalesce into something enjoyable depends on the actors' work and the viewer's appetite for comfort viewing. On the latter point, Merv hones in on a demographic – individuals who scroll endlessly for dog videos. Audiences receive a wealth of canine-centric sequences. The primary selling point is Merv himself, and even if it causes some stilted moments between animal action and people's faces, the movie does offer canine party antics, dog depression, and, in the end, a tail-wagging resolution.

Where It Wobbles

This level of success cannot be applied for the interpersonal drama. Its style wavers between emotional depth, broad humor, formulaic romance, and silly gags, never fully committing to a consistent feel. The fault lies not with Cox's performance, who is fully game the humiliating and funny required by the unusual premise. His performance contains a likable self-deprecation that provides much of the film's charm for this on-the-rocks couple. Her co-star Deschanel, true to her usual style, brings a certain millennial quirkiness that will click for some but not others. Her portrayal seems a little too aloof, particularly when contrasted against Cox's vulnerable performance. (It should be noted, the canine performer manages flopping and whining – while no the award-winner from Anatomy of a Fall, he remains a very good boy.)

Merv tries to add substance to the central romance for scenes without their pet – which is unfortunate, since the dog is by far the cutest element of this feel-good picture. Unsurprisingly, it meets the bare minimum. The reason for the split would feel more nuanced with more screen time and fewer direct statements. As it stands, Merv is light and sugary, fulfilling all its marks. Making a film with this canine conflict isn't a bad idea – even if it's hardly a brilliant concept.

• Merv becomes available on Amazon Prime Video this December.