Le Facteur de Saint-Tropez

That damn mistral wind!

Damn chewing-gum!

Unbelievable! He thinks my feet are a trashcan!

Nasty!

Julien!

Julien!

Julien, the coffee's ready!

If his poor mother saw this...

Julien! The coffee was hot,

but now, it's cold!

- Shut up! - Hello there, Charlie.

You're the postman!

Here.

That's disgusting! I'd rather have some seeds. Some seeds!

Charlie, how do I wake up that slacker?

It's time!

Young people aren't what they used to be.

Julien!

- Hi, dad. - What am I, chopped liver?

Hi, Charlie.

Do you know what time it is?

Don't worry, I'll still get there before you.

Civil servant!

Oh, that clock, I don't give a damn about it!

Hey, Robin!

You're starting the day a bit late.

Jean-Claude, can't you quiet down that damn machine?

You're polluting the air,

and you're destroying my eardrums!

You're annoying with that ecology stuff.

Annoying, am I?

Well, if I were a cop,

I'd give you a fine for noise pollution!

And not a small one. It'll make you turn bright red!

I don't know about turning red. Your farmhouse turned green!

There, have a look.

Oh, shit!

It was red, and now it's green...

Well, well...

Well, dad? You hanging around?

Cut it out, leave me alone!

POST OFFICE

- There you are, dad. - Yes, Julien.

Finish your work and you'll get a medal.

Hello, kids.

Hi, Robin.

- Hi, Gandolf. - Hi, Robin.

Well, Galoubet?

- You're sorting? - Someone has to.

Well then!

- Hello, Mr. Faliert. - Hello, Robin.

- What brings you here today? - The Western wind.

"The Western wind?"

- So, we're going for green now? - That's right... green.

The color of the president of the Var region's ecological movement.

Galoubet!

Be careful.

Plus, it's an official letter for the mayor.

- Sorry, it's my wrist, boss. - It's fine.

Thanks, boss.

Robin. Start your round at the town hall.

That's perfect, it just so happens I've got a bone to pick with the mayor.

- You won't take the car? - No. I prefer my bike.

Sure, that might make you laugh...

But I do everything I can so this village doesn't become a dumpster!

Galoubet... Come on, be careful.

Hey! Julien, I've already warned you!

Give me a kiss!

Hello.

- You alright? - Yes.

- Hi, how are you? - Fine, and you?

See you later, then.

I don't mind you squeezing me, but not like that!

Here.

- With you, anytime, anywhere! - And if Nicole agrees.

Hey, you! Move your ass!

Hey, Mr. Police Officer,

see how fresh my sea bream is?

- It's like it's speaking to you. - I can hear it, alright!

What's it saying?

Your fresh sea bream is saying it hasn't seen the sea in a long time!

You old good for nothing! Damn crazy bastard!

Why don't you look in a mirror?

- Robin, where are you going? - I've got a bone to pick with the mayor.

- Mr. Police Office. - Yes, kiddo?

- I've lost my mom. - How'd that happen?

I went to buy some ice cream and then she was gone.

What does your mom look like?

She's a brunette, tall, pretty, nice, and doesn't stop yelling at dad.

- What's your name? - Virginie.

Come on, Virginie, let's go find your mom.

- Never mind, she's right over there! - Which one is she?

The one kissing that sailor.

After this meeting, I've got eight marriages so hurry up.

So, first matter to discuss...

Oh, yes... Mr. Sahada's request for a building permit.

- Everyone agree? - Yes, fine.

No one opposes? Good, that's sorted.

There we go.

Moving on, now. We have... The supermarket's expansion permit.

That would kill all small businesses!

It won't kill anything! Plus, they'll hire 40 more people.

That's a strong argument for the election.

The fight against unemployment is very trendy.

Right, no problem.

- So... - Wait a minute.

- Robin, the Mayor is busy. - Doing what, exactly?

City council meeting, it's not the time to bother her.

- It's the perfect time to bother her! - Robin, don't go in there!

I'm not going in there, Miss Janine... I'm slipping in!

Hi, everyone!

- Hello, Chantal. - Look who's dropped by for a visit.

Robin, the nuisance, Bellefeuille, the postman,

or Robin Bellefeuille, the president of the ecological club.

It's all three!

There's no point asking if you know what color my house is this morning!

- Where's the wind blowing from? - Seems like a western wind.

- Yes, it's from the west! - Your house is green, then! Right?

You guessed right, Mr. Deputy Mayor! It's green because of the western wind!

I'm sick and tired of living in a chameleon house!

When the mistral wind blows, like today,

I get all the red dust from the La Garde-Freinet Brickwork.

Now, it's the western wind, so all the green dust covers my house!

It comes from the dye factory.

My house is white when east wind carries dust from the Gassin cement plant.

And it turns black when the Sirocco wind blows over my rooftop

smoke from the factory that burns all that garbage.

So...

I ask you...

what do you intend to do about it?

Nothing.

Of course we'll do something. We could move you to the city, sir.

To the Rainbow apartment complex.

Hey! You call me "sir" now, Mister Mayor?

We almost got married 25 years ago,

and now you call me "sir", like I'm a stranger!

Yeah, that was a close shave!

The mad euphoria of the 60s!

Robin, old pal, we're fed up with you and your ecology problems.

- Enough, already! - Yeah, Robin, let's be serious here!

Business is business for the good of the people.

Ecology is nice and all, but

it's not the main issue of the day.

I'm warning you all!

I'm at war with the chicken cages you're trying to build all over the place!

Against all the noise and toxins, polluting sidewalks, trees, and the sea!

And moral pollution, while you're at it!

Right, if all the people whose morals are polluted

had to go confess, the church would be full

and the city council would be empty!

Robin, come on now.

I'm going to shove my foot up your ass.

Don't hurt me too much,

otherwise, I'll be limping the day our kids get married.

Our kids?

Your son isn't with my daughter yet.

She's turning 18 in 28 days.

She won't need your permission anymore!

Nicolas!

Nicolas!

Yes, ma'am?

Get this citizen out of here before I throw him out of the country!

In the movies, there's nothing better than a kick-in-the-ass, pie-in-the-face joke.

Charlie Chaplin and De Funès were real experts!

Well, let me tell you... Apart from Marilyn Monroe,

I don't see anything cool about movies.

Let me explain. There are 32 ways of giving a good kick in the ass.

To throw a pie in the face, it's all in the wrist.

Here...

Watch this!

Hey, Mr. Film Buff, ever seen Chaplin unemployed?

Why?

Mail's here!

I'll show you for making fun of me!

Gag!

- Hi, Dominique. - Hi, Robin.

Yes, Mr. Mayor.

No, don't worry. We'll handle it.

Yes?

Yes.

- I had to get the parts in Toulon-- - Hi, Lambert.

Hi, Robin.

A turbo's not easy, you know.

Yes.

Yes, Mr. Dantec.

- What is it? - A registered letter.

- Probably the tax collector. - Oh, shit! No, not you, Mr. Dantec!

Yes.

For seven o'clock? Wait, I'll check.

- Dominique! - Coming!

- Yes, Mr. Lambert? - Mr. Dantec's car...

Will it be ready by 7:00 p.m.?

Sure, no problem. It's almost ready.

It's quite a bombshell!

Well, it was a bombshell...

And now?

Now, it's more of a barbecued hot dog.

Right, I'm leaving. It's too noisy here.

And it smells like trouble.

Get out! Get out, I said!