Merv Review – A Dog Steals the Spotlight in Amazon’s Christmas Comedy | film

IIt is a universally acknowledged fact, at least in my social circles, that co-parenting a dog is a bad idea. Most will tell you: Shared dog custody arrangements prevent exes from moving on. It’s a logistical headache. Causes fights. It’s annoying for everyone involved (and then some). Apparently, in a discovery worthy of being shown live on the Internet, it makes dogs depressed.

And not to disparage canine mental health – I’ve listened to my mother brag about our family Chihuahua’s “EQ” enough to know that man’s best friend has the potential for great emotional sensitivity. (And the ability to convey that on demand—for a truly remarkable take on canine depression, please watch Bing, the doomed Great Dane in the 2024 film The Friend.) I have no doubt that a dog like Merv, the wiry-haired poodle played by Gus the Dog in Amazon’s eponymous Merv movie, would struggle to adapt to life in a single family unit of split homes. However, whether or not an ill-advised dog-sharing arrangement can sustain a full-fledged Christmas romantic comedy is a questionable proposition.

To be fair, Murph, written by Dane Clarke and Lynsey Stewart and directed by British playwright Jessica Swale, doesn’t pretend to be any bigger or better than it is. This is a holiday release for a tech company and a studio – and it’s not that deep. You know the plot is going to be simple and straightforward – forced to confront the reality that their post-breakup depression is only bettered by Merv, darlings Ross (Charlie Cox, thankfully still British) and Anne (Zooey Deschanel) take a euphoric trip to a dog resort, where they’ll presumably realize they’re better off together. Side characters — played here by Chris Redd, Jasmine Matthews, Wayne Everett, and Elaine Jameson — will be eccentric, underutilized, over-the-top, or all of the above. The visual quality will be that of the best-selling brand on Amazon, and the winter atmosphere is clearly contrived. (In this case, the fake snow is gathering around green trees, more like in North Carolina in June than in Boston in December.)

Whether or not these known quantities combine into something enjoyable depends on the quality of the offerings and the individual’s appetite for comfort food. In the second account, Merv selects a key target audience — the kind that will be scrolled on Instagram Reels for dog videos, and please know I’m saying this using an algorithm that accounts for 70% of Chihuahua videos — and presents with a slew of dog montages. The selling point is the dog, and although that unfortunately entails some awkward adjustments between canine line (of sorts) and human response, Merv caters to dog beach, dog parties, dog walks, dog depression and, ultimately, dog joy.

The same can’t be said for the human side of the project, which veers uncomfortably between relationship study, winking laughs, basic romantic comedy, and slapstick comedy, without ever succeeding at being any of them. This isn’t Cox’s fault, who plays admirably here, willing to do the silliness and confusion necessary to fully engage in the dog resort. There is an inherent self-deprecation in the charming performance, providing more than its share of charm and chemistry for this couple who are perfect for each other on the rocks. Deschanel, as she does, brings a certain millennial weirdness to the proceedings, which are either your speed or they’re not. Her Anna seems a little too dry and aloof for my taste, especially when matched with Cox’s wistful honesty. (For what it’s worth – even though he’s not given much to do besides “feel depressed”, Gus the dog flops on the floor and growls convincingly – he’s not the Messi of the anatomy of a fall, but he’s still a pretty good kid.)

Merv tries to give Anna and Russ’s relationship enough weight to carry through scenes without the title dog – which is a shame, because he’s by far the cutest part of this cute picture – and, as expected, meets the minimum. There’s a reason the two broke up, one that would feel more grounded and mature if given more time to delve into it and a less explicit explanation. As it stands, Merv is slight and sweet and fits right in with expectations. Making a movie about co-parenting a dog isn’t a bad idea – although I’m not saying it’s a great idea either.