If you need some cheering up, I have two words and an ampersand for you: Hobbs & Shaw. As in, the box-office hit starring Idris Elba and two bald blokes with big biceps.

I haven’t actually seen the movie yet as, to paraphrase Withnail & I, I have gone on holiday by mistake and I am somewhere disorientingly rural. However, as it is a spin-off of Fast & Furious, my favourite film franchise, I know it will be brilliant and I am Excited & Impatient to see it. Sorry if I sound like a teenage boy; these films have a way of bringing out my inner adolescent.

People sometimes find my passion for Fast & Furious difficult to understand. My oversized enthusiasm for the films even contributed to the breakdown of a relationship: I had a massive fight with an ex after watching Furious 7 because she claimed I showed more emotion during the two-hour movie than I had during our two years together. But here is the thing about Fast & Furious that I tried to explain to her: the franchise isn’t mindless drivel; it is a camp shot of pure joy. And God knows we need that now.

I am obviously not the only F&F enthusiast out there: the franchise has been going for 18 years and taken £4.5bn. It is the same age as another American institution: the war in Afghanistan. While the latter represent everything that is wrong with the US, the former encapsulates the best parts of the country. For one, it has always had a diverse cast; not because it is point-scoring or making a point, but because that is what the US is like. And while the films may be full of car-racing criminals, its core message is that nothing is more important than family values. Not heteronormative family values, but staying loyal to the family you choose. Excuse me for a second, will you? I think I am getting emotional here.

•Arwa Mahdawi is a Guardian columnist