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This is an often-repeated piece of advice in certain circles that co-parenting a canine companion following a split is a terrible idea. The consensus suggests such situations prevent former couples from finding closure, cause practical headaches, lead to tension, and become annoying for all parties. Seemingly, and in a twist suited to a direct-to-platform film, it also makes the canine in question to feel down.

Not to downplay the mental health of our pets – countless people speak of their deep emotional capacity. If you need standout portrayal in pet despair, consider another performance. It seems certain that a dog such as Merv, a scruffy terrier type brought to life by Gus the Dog, would struggle coping with life in two homes. The idea of basing a full holiday film on this conflict is sustainable is a questionable prospect.

A Familiar Formula

To its credit, Merv, written by its screenwriters and under the guidance of Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be deeper than a light film. It functions as a Christmas movie from a major tech-and-media conglomerate – the ambitions is limited. Its storyline proves to be straightforward: a separated couple Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna, portrayed by Zooey Deschanel, realizing that their own sadness is rivaled only by their dog's, embark on a uplifting getaway to a luxury pet hotel. Once there, as expected, they will presumably realize the idea that they should reunite. Ensemble players – including familiar faces – fulfill roles eccentric, underutilized, or over-the-top. Its aesthetic carries the feel of a platform's in-house production, with a wintry atmosphere that is obviously artificial – exemplified by flurries clinging to verdant foliage as a summer location stands in for the Northeast.

Where the Film Shines

Whether these predictable parts coalesce into a pleasant experience rests upon the execution and an acceptance of easy entertainment. For the comfort factor, Merv knows its audience – those people who seek out for pet content. It provides a wealth of scenes focused on the pet. The main attraction is Merv himself, and even if it causes some clunky cuts between what the dog does and the actors' responses, the movie succeeds in showing canine party antics, dog depression, and, ultimately, doggie joy.

The Human Element

Such effectiveness cannot be applied for the human side of the story. The film's approach vacillates between emotional depth, zany antics, formulaic romance, and silly gags, not quite landing a consistent feel. This is not Charlie Cox, who is admirably committed the humiliating and funny demanded of the dog resort scenario. Cox exhibits a charming humility that offers a significant portion of the appeal for this ostensibly perfect couple. Her co-star Deschanel, as is her trademark, brings a particular brand of eccentricity that will click for some but not others. The character seems a little too aloof, particularly when alongside Cox's vulnerable performance. (On another note, the canine performer manages looking despondent – while no a canine thespian of that caliber, he's definitely a scene-stealer.)

Merv tries to provide depth to the couple's history for moments when the dog is absent – which is unfortunate, considering the title character is easily the cutest element of this film designed for charm. As one might predict, it achieves only baseline competence. The catalyst for their separation might seem more grounded and mature with less exposition and fewer direct statements. In the end, Merv is gentle and pleasant, fulfilling precisely what you anticipate. Creating a movie about dog co-parenting isn't a bad idea – though it's hardly a brilliant concept.

• Merv streams on Amazon Prime Video this December.