A food truck selling 'O pere e 'o Musso - a mass of cyanotic butcher's waste - has just appeared in the village, and little Tommaso cannot imagine that his fate is in the hands of Vittorio, the man who is cutting the meat before his eyes. But tonight nothing is as it seems, and even participating in a tasty lottery can turn into the worst of
catastrophes.

DIRECTOR'S NOTES:
«Beauty? They say it's in the eye of the beholder.»
«And if there's no more beholder?»
When Michel Piccoli and Denis Lavant spoke like this in Holy Motors (Leos Carax, 2012), the "Sacred Engine" of the bulky limousine in which the characters moved continued to roar through the rues and boulevards of Paris. To have the courage to tell the hope of the rebirth of my land, I needed to translate it into the eyes of little Tommaso. In his gaze, perhaps, even on the most "odd" of days, he can find what he lacks to rise to "even". Only the apparent truth is told before Tommaso's eyes, the one that doesn't risk to upset.
Television can help children become aware of risks, as it did for me on September 11, 2001 when I was watching cartoons on a television programme called “Melevisione” and the news from New York interrupted. In retrospect, I acknowledge that this was the initial instance I became aware of the presence of danger. I could find myself in any location in the world, at any given moment, when a catastrophe occurs. My window framed Vesuvius, and I realized that if it were to erupt again, I would never have the opportunity to watch the lava flow on television. Night is an Odd Day could one day become a chronicle, but for now, it is a thriller featuring desperate characters. Their dramas and the consequences of their choices make them profoundly neorealist. The conclusion of their narrative arc is a mirage that materializes too briefly to be believed.
After killing Andrea, Vittorio and Sofia seek redemption, reunite with their children, and only then does the Vesuvius erupt. This unusual disaster movie contains a major innovation for the genre. Vittorio and Sofia, like a modern Bonnie and Clyde, meet their end after their raids. However, this time it is not the hand of the law that kills them. Instead, the cinema reconstructs the danger of the eruption of Vesuvius through VFX. The eruption outside the window will soon become real for everyone who sees it on television. Among them will be Tommaso, and the camera will focus solely on him. Our fictional narrative allows us to contrast the catastrophic event with the lyrics of La Vida Tombola by Manu Chao. This, along with episode 42 of Flo, Little Robinson, creates a story that transcends geographical and generational boundaries, bringing us together in the face of danger.
The short film is stylistically influenced by the principle of contamination. A neorealist approach can have the aesthetics of a north-European thriller. Pink neon can be used in a more diegetic way than ever before. Vesuvius can be portrayed without the sea and the sun, creating an atmosphere of Norse mythology.
Vittorio and Sofia are the only ones to speak in dialect; all the other characters use standard Italian. This creates the sensation of a placeless environment overwhelmed by the sounds of Campania.
The only character to make a complete arc will be the music: it will start with a highly dramaturgical symphonic progression but, in order to make the transition to the unsettling pop of La Vida Tombola come alive, we will first have to switch to the electronic variant of the symphonic theme of the beginning.
In March 2024, it has been eighty years since the last eruption of Campania's giant volcano, Vesuvius. Despite its potential danger, Vesuvius has been perceived as just another mountain, obstructing the view. However, living in its proximity is akin to waking up every day with a revolver pointed at your head. If Vittorio's gun fails to fire twice during the narration, only Vesuvius can take its place in becoming Chekhovian. Now that it has exploded in front of our camera, we can be certain of one thing: chance does not exist.