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It is a widely held belief for numerous people that jointly caring for a canine companion following a split is a terrible idea. The consensus suggests such situations prevent ex-partners from finding closure, cause practical headaches, fuel disputes, and prove frustrating across the board. Apparently, in a revelation suited to a direct-to-platform film, it also makes the canine in question to become depressed.

Without minimizing the mental health of dogs – many owners observe their remarkable empathy. For a standout portrayal in dog sorrow, consider a past film. I firmly believe that a dog like Merv, a scruffy terrier type played by a talented dog named Gus, would have a hard time adjusting to life in two homes. Whether this premise a full holiday film around this situation is sustainable is rather doubtful.

A Familiar Formula

Fairness demands noting, Merv, crafted by Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and directed by Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be anything more than what it is. It functions as a Christmas movie from a streaming platform giant – the ambitions is limited. The narrative is destined to be straightforward: former spouses Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna (Zooey Deschanel), confronting that their post-breakup gloom is rivaled only by their dog's, take a uplifting getaway to a luxury pet hotel. There, inevitably, they will surely rediscover the idea that they should reunite. Ensemble players – including Chris Redd, Jasmine Mathews, and others – are crafted as eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Visually carries the feel of a platform's in-house production, with a holiday backdrop that is clearly manufactured – as seen in fake snow clinging to green trees as a summer location stands in for a wintery Boston.

Where the Film Shines

How these predictable parts coalesce into something enjoyable hinges on the actors' work and the viewer's appetite for easy entertainment. For the comfort factor, Merv knows its audience – the kind who seek out for pet content. Audiences receive a wealth of adorable dog montages. The primary selling point is the dog, and while this leads to some stilted moments between what the dog does and human reaction, the movie succeeds in showing walking sequences, canine sorrow, and, in the end, a tail-wagging resolution.

The Human Element

This level of success is not earned for the human side of the story. Its style wavers between emotional depth, wacky comedy, standard rom-com beats, and outright slapstick, failing to master a single genre. No blame falls on Charlie Cox, who is willing to embrace the absurd and awkward inherent in the dog resort scenario. He brings a charming humility that supplies much of the film's charm for this ostensibly perfect couple. Anna's portrayer, in her typical fashion, injects a distinctive offbeat energy that will either resonate with viewers. Her portrayal can feel a touch too detached, notably when contrasted against Cox's heartfelt sincerity. (On another note, the canine performer succeeds in acting depressed – while no a canine thespian of that caliber, he remains an excellent dog.)

The film attempts to provide depth to Anna and Russ's relationship for scenes without their pet – a bit of a pity, considering the dog is undoubtedly the cutest element of this feel-good picture. Expectedly, it meets the bare minimum. The catalyst for their separation could have been more nuanced with less exposition and fewer direct statements. Ultimately, Merv is light and sugary, meeting every expected note. Making a film on this shared-custody premise has potential – though I wouldn't call it a stroke of genius.

• Merv becomes available on the Amazon platform starting December 10.