According to indieWIRE, the John Cusack satire War, Inc made an impressive $45,714 on two screens in its opening weekend. Not exactly Iron Man numbers, but a much higher per-screen average than any other film in limited release. For the sake of perspective: Indiana Jones and I’m Vaguely Certain Shia La Beouf’s IMDb Profile Exaggerates His Height made less than a thousand dollars more per screen in its by all accounts sufficiently massive opening weekend; Cusack’s last film, the also war-themed Grace is Gone, made just $50,899 in its entire theatrical run.

So this a victory for indie film, right? Yay! Except, of course, that the movie’s abysmally bad.

Don’t just take my word for it––check out War, Inc’s page on Rotten Tomatoes, where its rating of 25% Fresh seems to have been inflated by the cherry-red plaudits of a couple of known blurb whores.

Still, there’s something going on here, and I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. This can’t be a Peter Bart “the audience doesn’t care about critics” thing––and if it is, it’s the exception to the rule in a summer season in which the most critically acclaimed Hollywood product is also the highest grosser. Is there a segment of audience that’s finally ready to laugh at the idea of America as bumbling conquerors? As AJ Schnack points out, Where in the World is Osama Bin Laden? is experience a sudden up-tick in box office love, so maybe that’s part of it.

Another theory: people love John Cusack. Especially girls. Well, okay––women, but Cusack has a way of making women revert back to girlhood. Girls especially love a specific brand of Cusack: this guy just has to put on a suit and drop his chin slightly and open his eyes wide and start convincing a reluctant woman (on screen) that she should abandon all previous life plans in order to do something foolish with him, and millions of women (off screen), who would probably otherwise have perfect control of their faculties, start to feel like their insides are melting and complain that they can’t quite think straight. That segment of the audience was probably so doped up on the pheromones bouncing off the screen that they could barely even notice War, Inc’s basic incompetency as a satire, a comedy, a romance or a political statement. And don’t cry for their poor husbands and boyfriends, who surely reaped the rewards of The Cusack Factor that night at home. It’s a win-win!