"The Night Watcher": A thoughtful meditation on nurturing others' children

In her new solo play "The Night Watcher," Charlayne Woodard reports a fraught conversation with a fellow passenger on a New York subway ride.

Learning that the award-winning actress-writer has no kids, the older man demanded, "What kind of woman are you? God created you to reproduce!"

You'll find Woodard's full response to this attack, a thoughtful and engrossing, entertaining and poignant response, in this world-premiere piece at Seattle Repertory Theatre.

With director Daniel Sullivan, her theatrical soul mate and frequent collaborator (he's also the former artistic director of Seattle Rep), Woodard has fashioned a powerful rumination on her nurturing role as "auntie" in the lives of many children.

And in doing so, she vividly illustrates a critical source of love for young people living in a culture that exalts the idea of biological parenthood but doesn't always follow through.

In her bright and dark string of vignettes (drawn from her own life, with details fictionalized to protect the truly innocent), Woodard also proves again to Seattle audiences what a rare, glowing actor she is.

Alone on a stage that has been attractively dressed by designer Tom Lynch, with Venetian blinds and evocative slide projections of various locales, Woodard is pure, kinetic incandescence.

She's like a light source in motion, with a dimmer switch that goes from near-darkness to blazing radiance in a single speech, sometimes a single word. (Geoff Korf's sensitive lighting design follows accordingly.)

"The Night Watcher" begins on a warmly humorous but telling note, some years ago, as Woodard (who is black) and her husband (who is white) are being urged by a friend and movie star (Alfre Woodard), to adopt a mixed-race baby in need of a home.

Woodard's refusal of the offer, and realization that full-time parenting is not what she and her husband want, leads into tales of how many other opportunities her generous spirit finds to make a difference in the lives of young ones.

Her acted-out adventures as a godmother to the kids of friends and relations begins with a comical visit to her L.A. home by an ungrateful, demanding Adolescent From Hell.

With her uncanny shifts of voice, gesture and attitude, and her instant over-the-back-fence rapport with the audience, Woodard perfectly captures the kid's petulance — and her own rising aggravation.

Most of her stories, while funny at times, have a more troubling aura. There are portraits of several endearing, urgently needy kids — neglected by an overwhelmed single parent, terrorized by an alcoholic father, dumped on the shoulders of grandparents.

Woodard offers concern, affirmation, treats of shopping trips and holidays. But she knows, and so do we, the limits of what she or any individual can do for a child at risk — a child who truly needs a village.

While celebrating the "safety net" of extended family, and upbraiding those who evade responsibility or exploit children, Woodard doesn't let herself off the hook.

A scene of the actress buying expensive outfits for her cherished Maltese terrier, at an L.A. boutique called Puppies and Babies, is hilarious — and a sharp commentary on warped priorities. And the desire of a child to be as precious to somebody as Woodard's pampered pet is to her provides some heart-piercing moments.

Though its concerns are serious, "The Night Watcher" (the title refers to the role of family protector, assumed by a scared little boy), is also heartily enjoyable.

The last two vignettes merit tightening, with less said and more inferred. But the two-hours-plus show is deftly staged throughout by Sullivan, with a lovely attention to nuance and musical detail. (It's a joy whenever Woodard breaks, for a moment, into full-throated song.)

This is also a brave piece, in several respects.

Rarely is the choice not to procreate granted such respect. And the life-enhancing intimacy that can exist between children and loving, nonparent adults is rarely articulated, or honored. (Woodard pays homage to several of her own "aunties" here, too.)

Also, Woodard addresses fearlessly, head-on a topic of controversy in the African-American community: the airing of problems in broken families. Yes, she stresses, it does take a village to raise kids — and our villages aren't doing such a great job of it.

A final note: Sullivan has directed three previous autobiographical solo shows by Woodard at Seattle Rep: "Pretty Fire," "Neat" and "In Real Life." But this is the first time either artist has worked in the Rep's smaller Leo K. Theatre, a space Sullivan conceived before retiring from the Rep in 1997 to become a freelance director in New York.

It is about time both commandeered the Leo K. — with a show that suits it so well, and delivers so much.

Misha Berson: mberson@seattletimes.com