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It is an often-repeated piece of advice for numerous people that jointly caring for a pet post-separation is ill-advised. Most will argue such arrangements impede individuals from finding closure, cause practical headaches, lead to tension, and prove frustrating across the board. Seemingly, and in a twist suited to a streaming movie, it also makes the canine in question to become depressed.

Without minimizing the inner life of our pets – pet parents speak of their remarkable empathy. If you need masterclass in dog sorrow, simply recall another performance. I firmly believe that a dog like Merv, a scruffy terrier type played by the canine actor Gus, would have a hard time coping with divided living arrangements. If this concept an entire Christmas romance on such a setup is sustainable seems debatable at best.

Predictable Foundations

Fairness demands noting, Merv, the work of Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart and under the guidance of playwright Jessica Swale, doesn't pretend to be more profound than what it is. We have here a seasonal offering from a corporate studio – the ambitions are modest. Its storyline proves to be simple and direct: former spouses Russ (Charlie Cox) and Anna, portrayed by Zooey Deschanel, forced to acknowledge that their own sadness is rivaled only by their dog's, embark on a uplifting getaway to a canine-centric retreat. At this location, predictably, they will presumably realize the idea that they should reunite. Ensemble players – played by a group of comedic actors – are crafted as quirky, thinly written, or broadly comic. The film's look is reminiscent of a platform's in-house production, with a holiday backdrop that is visibly contrived – as seen in flurries clinging to green trees as a warm climate doubles as a wintery Boston.

The Dog's Domain

Whether these familiar elements come together into a pleasant experience rests upon the strength of the performances and an acceptance of easy entertainment. For the comfort factor, Merv knows its audience – the kind who seek out for pet content. It provides a series of adorable dog montages. The primary selling point is the dog, and while this leads to some clunky cuts between animal action and human reaction, the movie does offer canine party antics, dog depression, and, finally, doggie joy.

Where It Wobbles

This level of success does not extend for the interpersonal drama. The tone vacillates between relationship drama, broad humor, formulaic romance, and physical comedy, failing to master any one mode. This is not Charlie Cox, who is admirably committed the humiliating and funny required by the dog resort scenario. He brings a endearing lack of ego that provides a significant portion of the appeal for this ostensibly perfect couple. Her co-star Deschanel, as is her trademark, injects a distinctive offbeat energy that will click for some but not others. Her Anna seems a touch too detached, especially when alongside Cox's vulnerable performance. (It should be noted, the canine performer succeeds in flopping and whining – while no Messi from that acclaimed drama, he is still a scene-stealer.)

The story strives to give weight to Anna and Russ's relationship for moments when the dog is absent – a regrettable choice, given that Merv is undoubtedly the most adorable aspect of this film designed for charm. Unsurprisingly, it just about gets by. The catalyst for the split could have been more nuanced with more screen time and more subtle storytelling. Ultimately, Merv is slight and sweet, fulfilling precisely what you anticipate. Making a film with this canine conflict has potential – though it's not exactly a stroke of genius.

• Merv becomes available on Prime Video this December.