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It is a common warning for numerous people that jointly caring for a pet after a breakup is a terrible idea. Experts frequently claim such situations prevent former couples from finding closure, lead to scheduling chaos, spark arguments, and become annoying across the board. Seemingly, as a development fit for a direct-to-platform film, it can even cause the dogs themselves to feel down.

Without minimizing the inner life of dogs – many owners speak of their deep emotional capacity. If you need masterclass in dog sorrow, consider a past film. It seems certain that a dog of Merv's nature, a spirited little dog brought to life by the canine actor Gus, would have a hard time adapting to split households. The idea of basing a full holiday film around this situation is sustainable seems a questionable prospect.

A Familiar Formula

To its credit, Merv, crafted by the writing duo and helmed by playwright Jessica Swale, never aspires to be deeper than its premise. This is a Christmas movie from a corporate studio – the ambitions remains surface-level. The narrative unfolds as uncomplicated: a separated couple Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), forced to acknowledge that their own sadness is rivaled only by their dog's, embark on a uplifting getaway to a dog-friendly resort. Once there, as expected, they will surely realize the idea that they are better together. Ensemble players – played by a group of comedic actors – fulfill roles quirky, thinly written, or broadly comic. Its aesthetic carries the feel of a platform's in-house production, with a holiday backdrop that is obviously artificial – as seen in obvious snow effects clinging to verdant foliage as a warm climate substitutes for a cold December city.

Where the Film Shines

Whether these predictable parts coalesce into something enjoyable hinges on the strength of the performances and an acceptance of cinematic comfort food. On the latter point, Merv hones in on a demographic – the kind who seek out for pet content. It provides a wealth of canine-centric sequences. The central draw is Merv himself, and while this leads to some stilted moments between what the dog does and the actors' responses, the movie succeeds in showing canine party antics, dog depression, and, ultimately, doggie joy.

The Two-Legged Cast

This level of success does not extend for the interpersonal drama. Its style wavers between emotional depth, zany antics, formulaic romance, and physical comedy, not quite landing any one mode. This is not Charlie Cox, who is fully game the humiliating and funny inherent in the bizarre setting. He brings a likable self-deprecation that offers a significant portion of the appeal for this on-the-rocks couple. Her co-star Deschanel, true to her usual style, injects a certain millennial quirkiness that will click for some but not others. The character seems a little too aloof, notably when alongside Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (It should be noted, Gus the Dog is convincing at looking despondent – he may not be a canine thespian of that caliber, he remains an excellent dog.)

The story strives to give weight to the couple's history for moments when the dog is absent – a regrettable choice, since Merv is undoubtedly the cutest element of this feel-good picture. Unsurprisingly, it just about gets by. The catalyst for the split would feel more grounded and mature with greater exploration and more subtle storytelling. In the end, Merv is slight and sweet, meeting precisely what you anticipate. Making a film about dog co-parenting is not terrible – even if I wouldn't call it a stroke of genius.

• Merv streams on the Amazon platform on December 10th.