All language subtitles for tati-jourdefete-en

In 1947 Jacques Tati used two cameras
to film Jour de Féte.

One with colour film,

the other, as back-up,
with black and white film.

The laboratory proved unable to cope
with the experimental colour process.

In 1949 the film was released
in black and white.

The original colour version

has been reconstituted according to
the director's intentions.

(Cock crows)

(Barks)

(Neighing)

(Clucking)

(Birds twitter)

(Engine chugs)

(Squawking)

Let's go, my little one.

(Clucking)

Roger!

(Chuckles)

(Children shout excitedly)

Gaston!

I said it would stir things up.

- Roger, fetch me some water.
- I'm busy with the authorities.

You think I'll fetch it?

Good day, Monsieur le Maire!
How are you?

(Old woman) Well, well,
the official handshake!

The mayor's had all year
to organise the fete.

It's all written down
in his little book.

- (Mooing)
- They'll fix it up over a drink.

Ah, here comes big Bondu
to stick his oar in.

You know, he's repainted everything.
It's all gleaming.

I wouldn't sit there, my lad,
it's not dry yet.

Not on that one, either.

- What's this on your chairs?
- Never seen varnish before?

(Bondu) Marie, bring the varnish!

Where did I put the varnish?

Quick, hurry up.

(Murmurs of approval)

That's straight from Paris.

- Ah, it's beautiful.
- Oh, yes.

Cheers.

Others will size it up, too.

Go on, take another peek.

Hardly worth emptying, was it?

(Merry chatter)

Hey, hey, calm down.

Come on, get down, you.

Careful.

I've got the heaviest one!

(Drumming)

(Bleating)

Attention!

Tonight, a grand cinema performance
in the square.

Romance with lovely Gloria Parson.

Stirring adventures
with daring Jim Parker

and his horse, Dixie,

riding the range far west.

(American) A man don't see a pretty
face round these parts very often.

And I reckon yours is just about the
prettiest in the whole of Arizona.

(Soundtrack slows down
and speeds up again)

You ain't got no call
to be scared, honey.

- What you doin' with that, Jim?
- I ain't aiming to do nothin'.

- Long as nobody don't interfere.
- Oh, Jim!

Daphne, I love you...
(Soundtrack slows down)

(French) Oh, excuse me.

Roger!

(Soundtrack gets back up to speed)

Daphne...

The Charpi girl's too busy
to fetch her finery for the ball.

(Chuckles) So the poor old man
has to do it.

(Cock crows)

Hup!

Go on, forward, keep going.

Whoa, whoa!

Hold on.

Hercule!

OK, let's go. Got it.

Look at them with their pole.

Bye.

(Clucking)

Sit yourself down there.

- Thanks.
- Bye!

(Men chatter in background)

- Shave or haircut?
- Haircut.

(Clucking continues)

(Squawk)

Right.

Whoa.

- That'll do. How much do I owe you?
- Two francs.

There.

Good day.

(Clanging)

(Men shouting animatedly)

They're not doing so well
with their pole.

These gentlemen seem to be in some
difficulty. Shall we advise them?

What's holding them back is...

Roger, have you seen the dogs?

(Whistles)

- (Barking)
- Oh, there they were.

- What about my letter?
- I'll post it now.

(Hammering)

- This way?
- No, that way.

- There, on the right.
- Oh, yes.

There, you see?

What about collection times?

Never mind that, just shove it in.
Someone will be along to collect it.

- Yeah?
- Oh, yeah.

(Insect buzzes)

- (Buzzing gets louder)
- (Bicycle bell rattles)

(Buzzing continues)

(Clucking)

(Buzzing continues)

(Buzzing fades off into distance)

(Mooing)

- (Whistle)
- A bit more!

Bit more!

(Men continue shouting)

OK, OK, it's fine.

Got it! Got it!

(Creaking)

(Bicycle bell rattles)

(Creaking)

Are you mad?! Riding into my cafe
on a bike? Get down here!

Oh, that's a bit much!

l was trying to water my plant!

Look! Look what you've done!

Let's go and sort this out.

Hey, calm down there.

Bravo, gentlemen!
What do you think, Marcel?

Since you ask,
I don't think they're in step.

The postman, though, is a man
of initiative; widely travelled.

I know the district.

You can tell he has intelligence
and aptitude.

Just by looking at him.

If only he'd been in charge.

Such a delicate operation
calls for a man of responsibility.

A man of decision and cool nerve.

- A leader, in other words.
- Exactly.

Right. Right-hand ropes on the right,
left-hand ropes on the left.

You stay there.

What are you doing?
Put that over there.

- Waiting for orders, are you?
- Yes, I am.

Wait for the order.

0K, give it a whack.

No, here. Go on.

Let's try it there, then.

No, no.

Oh!

| get it now.

Right, hit it.

Good.

Very good.
Now from the other side.

Same as before. Off we go.

See? No need to panic;
we'll get there in the end.

Go on! Are we ready?

Gently now.

You, what's this you're doing here?

Here. Take this.

Like this. Firm grip. Got it?

(Clunk)

Firm grip! Let's go.

Anything for me?

- (Neighs)
- Whoa!

Oh!

(Horse neighs)

(Crash)

Right, start again.

(Whistles) Ah.

Those pulling the ropes to the right,
pull to the right, and...

This isn't for me.

Don't bother me
about telegrams just now.

I'm trying to raise this pole here.

Ready? Heave!

Telegram. Huh!

You with the rope, go!

The telegram!

(Clamour continues)

(Birds twitter)

(Squawking)

Ahh. (Whistles)

- It's for the fair.
- Unwilling fare.

- There's a telegram...
- Have you got a letter for me?

- No, a telegram.
- A telegram!

I had a telegram.

Oh, that's a bit much.

Ooh.

What's in the telegram?

- "Adrien..."
- I know lots of Adriens.

So do |. It's not my fault
if your goat eats the mail!

Why don't you kick him outside?

(Alarmed shouting)

Adrien... The pole...

Come on, Roger.

(Cock crows)

A bit more to the left.

There you go! A bit more...

There!

Couldn't you lend a hand?

Look at this.

You can't set out like that.

I haven't finished my round.
Where's my bike?

Bring the gentleman's bicycle.

(Bell rattles)

A quick dust of the shoulders. There.

- Thanks, boys.
- You're welcome!

(Church bell chimes)

Hi, boys. I was just over there,
the flagpole was tottering,

so what did I do?

(Mutters)

Let's go and get a drink.

Morning, Emile.

Getting ready for the fun, eh? Ha ha!

(Barking)

(Twittering)

Hand in this cake at the Randeaus'
place; you'll be passing.

"You'll be passing." I don't always.

- Anything for me, postman?
- Yes, there is.

But I can't see you...

- Oh, that's a bit much.
- What on earth are you doing?

Me? What are you doing?
Watch where you're going!

- Can't you steer that thing?
- Couldn't you hear my bell?

(Mutters)

l was just over there...

(Mumbles)

Hey, hey. Hold that.

(Mutters)

(Mooing and snorting)

(Mooing)

(Mutters)

And I went whoop,
straight into the cafe.

Right-hand ropes on the right,
left-hand ropes on the left.

(Mutters)

(Cock crows)

(Bell rattles)

Hurry, here he is!

Here he is!

(Hinges creak)

(Cock crows)

(Chickens cluck)

(Creak)

(Bell rattles)

(Cock crows)

(Children chatter excitedly)

(Clucking)

I've already warned you
about getting dirty again, Alfred!

You'll go straight to bed,
without a ride on the roundabout.

Be careful, Fred!

Fred!

That's the Pibois' trap,
coming back from the station.

Say hello to Madame Pibois.

Today's the 16th, so she's away.

I want to go on the roundabout!

You looking for your hair?
Come on, play us your music.

Up you get.

(J‘ Fairground organ)

- Is it dry yet?
- No, and it never will be!

(Music continues)

(Bleats)

There go the Guinard
and Randeau girls.

Oh, what lovely shoes!

Let's go and find Jeanette.

Hey, Jeanette.

(Hinges squeak)

Ah, she's ready.

(Girls chatter and giggle)

Have fun, girls, in your
pretty dresses. (Chuckles)

(Girls giggle, birds twitter)

(Fairground organ continues)

(Honking)

(Engine rumbles)

(Hooves clatter)

(J‘ Festive march)

(Organ music continues)

(Applause)

(Organ and march both play at once)

Ladies and gentlemen,
your attention, please...

(Party hooter toots)

Listen to me.

Everyone needs a bit of happiness
in their life. Come and win!

Have you the key, Roger?

If you haven't won yet, you will do!

You could become the happy owner
of a lamp!

I'm talking to you, Roger.

And who knows, the sturdy clock
with two faces could even be yours!

There's your key.

Last call for bets!
Everyone's a winner!

Hello.

Who bet on the ace of spades?

You win, miss. Sweets or a voucher?
Five vouchers win the jackpot.

Let's go! Try your luck
on the ace of hearts!

Place your bets...
(Fairground organ drowns out speech)

You'll wear your shoes out.

(Creaking)

(Creaks)

(J‘ Military march)

(Insect buzzes)

(Bell rattles, insect buzzes,
band plays)

(Creaking)

(Crockery smashes)

What are you doing up there?!

That's my bike!

(Argument continues below)

(J‘ Military march)

(Applause)

(Music finishes)

- (Phone rings)
- Look at my bike!

Marie, telephone!

Oh, I don't care about your bike!

Marie, telephone!

- Francois broke the telephone.
- He'd better get it repaired, then!

- A Malaga, please.
- No Malaga; everyone has white wine.

Don't sit there!
Can't you see it's not dry?

- What will you have?
- White wine.

You get the hell out of here;
go and chuck your letters around!

(Engine roars, horn blares)

(Birds twitter)

(Horn blares)

(Engine revs)

(Horn blares)

(Mutters)

(Clanking)

(Stammers)

What?

- He keeps on at me.
- Leave the boy alone.

Go off and play.

Oh, that's a bit much.

(Party hooter toots)

Hey, Francois, over here, come on.

Come on, come and see.

Here.

(Clanking)

What was that?

- I didn't win.
- Don't argue.

(Mutters)

Right. Here we go.

(Smash)

Was that yours?

(Rifle snaps)

(Fairground organ drowns out speech)

(Giggling)

(Metal clanks)

- (Bell rattles)
- How about it, Francois, a drink?

Oh, no, I must repair this.

- Come on.
- I haven't finished my round yet.

(Lively chatter and piano music)

(Toots)

Come on.

Postman!

I haven't finished my round yet.

Bottoms up! Last to finish loses.
One, two, three...

(Piano clunks)

Finished.

Hey, you haven't broken the piano?

Make some room.

The piano's broken.

- (Squeaking)
- He'll sort it out!

- Polka or what?
- (Crowd) Polka!

(Polka plays then cuts out)

(Polka plays again)

Let's go again.

Yes we are,
I said so. One, two, three...

Two white wines, double quick.

- I don't call that bottoms up.
- Maybe the gentleman can't do it.

- Oh, now...
- Come on, bottoms up.

- Let's go.
- One, two...

He may be cheating, under that peak.

(Chatter)

One, two...

We'd better be going, Marcel.

Bye.

Cognac?

Madame Vireau.

Madame Vireau? (Mutters)

- How are you, Georges?
- Madame Vireau!

What is it? Something for me?

(Piano stops)

(Piano starts again)

Francois!

Francois!

Francois, Francois!

Francois, come and see.

It's a film about postmen in America!

(J‘ Fairground organ)

Hold on.

(Bell rattles)

(Film commentary in background)

Francois!

Three hundred million letters a day
are delivered with minimum delay.

Many countries
still use outmoded methods

but the American postman,
always in the vanguard of progress,

now has the helicopter
at his disposal.

Each postman will soon be required
to undergo special training.

And experts are working on utilising
the aeroplane.

Six million square miles, and
what matter if some roads are poor?

Where the road ends the sky begins
for the Yankee postman.

When there's no runway the intrepid
postman can become a parcel himself.

All admire the courage and heroism
of the air-postman

as he safely regains his Spitfire
in mid-air.

And yes, the Americans want to turn
every postman into an acrobat

so insurmountable difficulties
become child's play.

Speed plus reliability
equals effectiveness.

(English) Time... Time is money.

(French) The United States
Postal Service

is able to introduce their methods
to those other countries

who don't want to be left behind;
France, among others.

Will we soon be seeing the postman
bring onto our balconies

business correspondence, cards,
gas bills or love letters?

Francois!

It's no exaggeration to say
the postman is regarded as a hero.

For example,
this final stage of training

to overcome any obstacle which may
cut off the path of their motorbike.

Every year Oklahoma holds
a Mr Apollo contest.

How about a special delivery
in this rig-out, ladies?

(J‘ Fairground organ continues)

(Approving murmurs)

Your helicopter
won't be much good in America!

Going to New York
with your Tin Lizzie?

(Mutters)

I've just seen a film
about American postmen.

You can hardly see them
as they flash by!

- That'll make our postman mad.
- Or shut him up a bit.

(Animated chatter and laughter)

It seems things are really jumping
in America, Francois.

(Mumbles)

Compared to here.

Why weren't you in the film?

Didn't you see him?
He was the tall one!

- (Laughter)
- 0K, American?

(Mutters)

(Toots bugle)

Hey, Francois.

Come and have a drink, Francois.
Don't run away like that.

(Toots bugle)

(Slurs) I can't say
you're not playing off-key,

because you are off-key.

(Plays rambling tune on bugle)

- Oh, the Americans...
- Sit down. Listen to him, won't you?

He's right, Francois.

The Americans have the resources;
you know how our civil service is.

Try asking for a new tyre.

But in America they've got resources
and they're raring to go!

(Chuckles) Come on, let's be off.

(Door creaks and then slams)

Ahem!

(Door creaks closed)

Patron, what's the matter with him?

He's a bit upset. There was a film
about American postal methods.

So you can imagine...

- A drink, Captain?
- (Grunts)

(Mutters)

That was an old film.

Now a Ietter's delivered
almost before it's posted.

- How do they deliver to skyscrapers?
- By helicopter.

Want to see a boat? You must
twist it right, then twist it left.

- Further left. Don't see anything?
- No.

Saw an oil-tanker, did you?

Didn't see anything.

- One for the road, Captain?
- No, I'm fine.

(Chairs clatter)

I tell you, always off-key.

Always off-key.

(Bell rattles)

(Mutters)

Where's your helicopter, American?

Helicopter...

You've been drinking Coca-Cola but it
won't make you an American postman!

"In America, in America!"
I'll give you helicopters!

Yankee!

(Piano plays in distance)

(Bell rattles)

(Bugle plays)

(Crickets chirp)

(Owl hoots)

(Gate creaks)

(Dog barks in distance)

(Car horn toots)

(Thud)

(Branches crackle)

(Insect buzzes)

(Slurs) Americans...

(Mutters)

(Dog barks)

(Hinges creak)

(Horse neighs)

Shh! Texas...

(Mutters)

(Knocks) It's the postman.

(Squawks)

(Hinges creak)

(Bell rattles)

(Gunshot)

(Gunshot, dogs how! in distance)

(Clunk)

(Door squeaks then slams)

(Hinges squeak)

(Cock crows)

Oh, they must have been
doing acrobatics.

(Clucking, twittering and crowing)

They all got to bed pretty late.

Breakfast will be late, my dears.
Happily there's not a fair every day.

(Squeaks)

Oh, old Godot's going to be
up first again.

He even slept in his Sunday shirt.

(Hinges creak)

What a hangover!

(Whistle)

(Train whistles and chugs)

(Mooing)

(Squeaking and clanking)

(Door squeaks)

Francois, what are you doing there?

Francois!

Taking the Pullman to America?
Catching the ferry-boat?

Oh, ferry-boat... Pullman...

Where's my bike?

(Cock crows, bell rattles)

(Mutters) English!

(Clucking)

Here comes Monsieur Postman.

(Bell rattles)

He may be bringing bad news.

No, I'll leave that to the Americans.
I can't keep up with them.

With their moto-bicycles.

Don't take it to heart.

Americans are hot stuff with planes,
but on bikes they're useless.

You were in America; what was the
name of the cyclist postman you knew?

- Hawkeye.
- (Laughs)

Seriously, though, Marcel, I think
the gentleman needs our advice.

0K, listen.

Perhaps if he would just demonstrate
his technique,

we could improve it.

- Here.
- Go on.

Up you get. Right.

Now, you're riding along your round.

Go on.

You have a letter for this house.
What do you do?

Oh, la la!

OK.

Now let's see you mount.

Like this...

All that time wasting!
Now just watch this.

Hop!

There. Did you see that?

Few can manage that.
The roundabout will help.

- Let's go!
- (J‘ Fairground organ)

(Engine growls)

If my right hand's on the satchel
and my left hand's on the saddle,

how can I steer?

- Where's my bike?
- Further on.

So I set off again.

(Engine rumbles)

There you go!
The Ietter's delivered!

It's fantastic: the fair people
are training Francois!

(Fairground organ continues)

Now I can't get into my satchel.

He's right, Roger.

One can't think of everything; how
about a slight change in the draw?

Can he do it?

Hup!

So, like that... Hup!
Then hand in there, like that.

He can save time by changing hands.

Easy said, but the satchel
is still in the way. What do I do?

You go... hup!

Oh, like this?

There'll be no-one to touch
a man of action like him.

The Americans will have to watch out
if it comes to a stand-off.

The Americans have had it!
We're on the move!

Off you go!

(Hooves clip-clop)

(Mooing)

(Bell rattles)

Oh, those Americans.
Hello, Paris? New York!

Hello, New York?

(Clang)

(Engine starts)

(Rattles bell)
That'll be the Americans. Hello?

Ah, it's working.
What's that you say?

Who's that? Who? Georges?

- It's for you.
- There's no-one there.

Hello? Cut off. Well, doesn't matter.

The Americans have had it. Bye!

(Cock crows)

Good day!

Good day, good day, good day!

(Squawking)

(Twittering)

(Hinges squeak)

- Hello, Francois.
- Hello.

(Hinges creak)

Oh.

(Clucking)

Ah, that's... That's a bit much.

This is starting to drag.

(Mutters) I can't put up with this.

It's not hard to understand!

(Motor chugs)

(Clanging)

(Heavy footsteps)

(Horn blares)

(Explosion)

(Footsteps pound up stairs)

(Creaking)

(Heavy footsteps, crash)

(Hurried footsteps down stairs)

(Hinges squeak)

Ah.

Now that's something.

Now that's not what I call work.

Oh, la la la la.

Oh, we can't have that.

The Americans have got it right.
Speed!

(Phone rings)

Hello, central office.

Bye.

(Clucking, door squeaks)

(Bell rattles, cock crows)

(Twittering)

(Bell rattles, mooing)

(Mooing, bell rattles)

(Engine rumbles)

(Squawking)

Francois is doing his round,
American-style!

Postman!

I'm in a hurry, lots to do.

Postman!

Speed, speed!

Hello, hello, hello!

You want to take this?

Oh. American-style!

(Squeals)

(Grunting)

(Squawking and clucking)

Where's he gone?
I must have missed him.

(Echoes) I'm down the well!

Keeping cool, eh? Well, speed!

(Splash)

(Cock crows)

Go on, Francois! Go on!

(Church bell tolls)

(Bicycle bell rattles)

(Church bell tolls)

Hello?

Here. Speed!

(Bell tolls)

There you go.

Helicopter!

American-style!

Hey, boys! Come and see Francois
doing his round American-style!

Hey, Georges, Paul, Albert, Gaston!

- (Glasses clink)
- Hup!

Roger.

Go on! Keep your peak up!

Come and see Francois
doing his round American-style!

What are you doing there? Well met,
though. I've a letter for you.

Ever been to America?

From Maison Janvier!

What a mix-up.

- Where did that come from?
- From Chateau Roux.

I'm delivering American-style:
quick on the draw.

- I never saw it coming.
- Still, you hit the mark.

And now, well...

What can I do with these?
How can I wear them now?

At least they won't pinch your toes.

Oh, there's more. Hold on.

Sign, please.

Ah, it's tough...

(Bell rattles)

(Engine chugs)

My bike!

Marcel, look!

He's lost his helicopter!

- Go on, postman!
- Look at him go!

Go on!

(Bell rattles)

(Insect buzzes)

(Bell rattles, birds twitter)

(Tyres screech)

- Postman!
- (Screams)

Speed. Speed!

- Speed.
- What?

My bike!

(Horn blares)

(Bell rattles, shutters bang)

Look, here's Francois' bike.

Oh, la la. That's something.

Wait there.

(Bell tinkles)

Francois! (Toots horn)

Francois!

Come on, American, hurry!

Even Americans stop for a drink,
you know.

Ah! Americans!

Speed. Speed.

Look at Francois, American-style!

The sparks are flying!

That's it, Francois! Go on!

- Like in America!
- Speed, Francois! Speed!

(Horn blares)

(Tyres squeal)

(Bell rattles, chickens cluck)

Speed! Speed! That's it!

Oh, no, no!

Oh, that's a bit much!

Hey, Francois! We're off!

Keep it up!

Speed! Speed!

Francois... Francois!

Oh, my! (Honks horn)

- I got a bit excited.
- You shouldn't get in such a state.

Put yourself in my place.

I wanted to show American speed.

Americans are a law unto themselves,
but the world won't turn any quicker.

After all, if it's good news,
it can wait.

This is where I get off.

Whoa!

I'll just take myjacket and my bike.

- Hey, Francois!
- Yeah?

I haven't finished my round.

Enough of your American methods;
give us a hand.

I haven't finished my round yet!

Gaston, go and deliver the letters.

(Cock crows)

Whoa!

Oh, it's dry: I can sit down.

(Cock crows)

(Clanging)

(Engine turns over)

(Engine starts)

Subtitles by Sam Kingsley
Intelfax Media Access