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This is a common warning for numerous people that co-parenting a pet following a split is ill-advised. Experts frequently claim such arrangements hinder ex-partners from healing, cause practical headaches, spark arguments, and become annoying for all parties. Seemingly, and in a twist fit for a direct-to-platform film, it can even cause our furry friends to experience sadness.

Not to downplay the emotional well-being of our pets – pet parents attest to their remarkable empathy. For a standout portrayal in dog sorrow, simply recall a past film. It seems certain that a dog like Merv, a wired-hair terrier mix played by Gus the Dog, would have a hard time adjusting to divided living arrangements. The idea of basing a full holiday film around this situation is sustainable seems a questionable prospect.

Predictable Foundations

To its credit, Merv, the work of its screenwriters and helmed by director Swale, doesn't pretend to be anything more than its premise. This is a seasonal offering from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the depth remains surface-level. The narrative proves to be uncomplicated: former spouses Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), forced to acknowledge that their own sadness is matched by their dog's, embark on a cheer-up vacation to a luxury pet hotel. There, inevitably, they will surely realize the idea that they belong with each other. The supporting cast – including Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – are crafted as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Its aesthetic is reminiscent of a branded content, with a wintry atmosphere that is visibly contrived – exemplified by fake snow clinging to verdant foliage as a warm climate substitutes for a wintery Boston.

Where the Film Shines

How these predictable parts coalesce into a pleasant experience hinges on the strength of the performances and an acceptance of comfort viewing. Regarding the second aspect, Merv knows its audience – individuals who browse regularly for dog videos. Audiences receive a wealth of canine-centric sequences. The primary selling point is the dog, and while this leads to some stilted moments between the pet's "lines" and human reaction, the movie succeeds in showing canine party antics, pet moping, and, in the end, pure puppy happiness.

The Human Element

Such effectiveness does not extend for the romantic plot. The tone wavers between emotional depth, wacky comedy, standard rom-com beats, and outright slapstick, failing to master a single genre. This is not Charlie Cox, who is admirably committed the humiliating and funny required by the dog resort scenario. Cox exhibits a likable self-deprecation that supplies much of the film's charm for this on-the-rocks couple. Her co-star Deschanel, in her typical fashion, injects a certain millennial quirkiness that will be to your taste or not. Her portrayal seems a bit too dry, notably when alongside Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (It should be noted, the canine performer succeeds in acting depressed – he may not be the award-winner from Anatomy of a Fall, he's definitely a very good boy.)

Merv tries to give weight to Anna and Russ's relationship for moments when the dog is absent – a bit of a pity, since Merv is undoubtedly the cutest element of this film designed for charm. Unsurprisingly, it achieves only baseline competence. The catalyst for their original breakup might seem more nuanced with more screen time and more subtle storytelling. In the end, Merv is light and sugary, hitting precisely what you anticipate. Crafting a story about dog co-parenting isn't a bad idea – even if it's not exactly a stroke of genius.

• Merv streams on the Amazon platform this December.