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It is an often-repeated piece of advice among many that jointly caring for a pet following a split is a recipe for trouble. Experts frequently claim such setups prevent individuals from moving forward, create logistical nightmares, spark arguments, and become annoying across the board. Apparently, as a development suited to a streaming movie, it also makes the dogs themselves to become depressed.

Not to downplay the inner life of dogs – many owners observe their remarkable empathy. To witness a prime example in dog sorrow, one need only look a past film. There is little doubt that a dog of Merv's nature, a spirited little dog brought to life by a talented dog named Gus, would have a hard time adapting to divided living arrangements. If this concept a full holiday film around this situation is sustainable seems debatable at best.

A Familiar Formula

Honestly, Merv, written by its screenwriters and directed by playwright Jessica Swale, makes no grand claims more profound than its premise. This is a holiday release from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the ambitions is limited. The plot is destined to be simple and direct: former spouses Russ, played by 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 canine-centric retreat. There, inevitably, they will undoubtedly realize the idea that they are better together. Ensemble players – including Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – serve as the usual assortment of types. Its aesthetic carries the feel of a platform's in-house production, with a Christmas setting that is obviously artificial – as seen in fake snow surrounding verdant foliage as a warm climate doubles as the Northeast.

Where the Film Shines

How these standard ingredients merge into something enjoyable depends on the execution and an acceptance of comfort viewing. For the comfort factor, Merv hones in on a demographic – the kind who seek out for dog videos. It provides a series of canine-centric sequences. The primary selling point is the dog, and though it results in some awkward editing between what the dog does and people's faces, the movie succeeds in showing walking sequences, pet moping, and, in the end, a tail-wagging resolution.

The Two-Legged Cast

The same praise is not earned for the human side of the story. The tone vacillates between serious study, wacky comedy, formulaic romance, and silly gags, never fully committing to a consistent feel. No blame falls on the actor playing Russ, who is fully game the absurd and awkward demanded of the unusual premise. His performance contains a endearing lack of ego that supplies a significant portion of the appeal for this seemingly ideal couple. Her co-star Deschanel, as is her trademark, injects a distinctive offbeat energy that will be to your taste or not. The character can feel a bit too dry, notably when alongside Cox's genuine sadness. (On another note, Gus the Dog succeeds in flopping and whining – while no the award-winner from Anatomy of a Fall, he remains a scene-stealer.)

Merv tries to provide depth to the central romance for moments when the dog is absent – a bit of a pity, given that the title character is by far the cutest element of this film designed for charm. As one might predict, it just about gets by. The catalyst for their separation might seem more nuanced with greater exploration and less blunt explanation. As it stands, Merv is gentle and pleasant, hitting every expected note. Making a film about dog co-parenting is not terrible – even if I wouldn't call it a great one either.

• Merv becomes available on Amazon Prime Video this December.