The trials of a young talent

Sit down with Lynn Collins -- a thoroughly modern young actor whose porcelain skin and long, wavy hair work equally well in 16th century Venice and 21st century New York -- and it’s not long before the subject of that famous courtroom scene comes up. Not to mention the matter of having played it opposite Al Pacino and Jeremy Irons.

Collins is starring as Portia, a clever young heiress, in Michael Radford’s film adaptation of Shakespeare’s “Merchant of Venice,” which opens Wednesday. And the courtroom scene is the climactic moment in Shakespeare’s tale of intolerance and political intrigue, when Portia, disguised as the male law student Balthazar, is pleading for the life of Antonio (Irons), a merchant and close friend to Bassanio (Joseph Fiennes), her new husband.

The judge, in this most familiar exchange, is determining the resolution of a bond signed by Antonio and Shylock (Pacino), a moneylender. Antonio has been late paying his debt, but he is now able to pay it back threefold courtesy of Bassanio (who has the money courtesy of the wealthy Portia). Shylock, however, is tired of being shunned and derided by Venetian society because he is Jewish (“Hath not a Jew eyes? ... If you prick us, do we not bleed?”) and demands, as stipulated in the bond, his “pound of flesh.”

Portia/Balthazar first argues eloquently for mercy (“The quality of mercy is not strained ... but twice blessed. It blesseth him that gives and him that takes”). When that fails to move Shylock, she concedes that indeed, the law does allow Shylock to take from Antonio’s breast a pound of flesh but not one drop of blood. An impossible task, and Shylock is, once again, an outcast, an aspect of the play brought to the foreground in the adaptation by Radford (“Il Postino,” “White Mischief”).

Delivering the “quality of mercy” speech was “really, really difficult,” says Collins. For one thing, she was opposite Pacino, “who fought so hard for me to be cast” -- financiers had wanted a more recognizable name -- “and that put pressure on me to do my best.” Plus, he and Irons are “icons of the cinema, and here I was in a fresh-out-of-the-womb kind of state. Michael said to me, ‘Stop pinching yourself. In this scene Portia has the highest status.’ ”

Nevertheless, the speech is “so famous, everybody has their conception of how it should be played. We tried the scene from all different angles.” Radford first had Collins deliver the speech dispassionately, as a lawyer would. But “it wasn’t emotionally real to me. In the end, I had to be true to my heart.”

True to her heart meant embracing the concept of forgiveness, “the Christianity of it all. I’m a spiritual person, but not a Christian” and “confronting hard stuff in my childhood.” She doesn’t elaborate. “Same old same-old,” she says, smiling, shrugging.

Tested by Texas

Collins, 25, fresh from a photo shoot, is wearing a quilted brocade Prada coat (alas, she must return it), over jeans and a white T-shirt peeking out from a lacy black sweater. She grew up in Houston and Singapore, she says. Her father worked for Exxon as an oil rig supervisor, her mother as a nurse. She learned open-mindedness in Singapore, where she lived from age 4 to 10, she says, not in Houston, and adds, “My tolerance is in complete opposition to my family.”

But growing up in Houston did have its advantages. “In Texas, everything is competitive -- the drama department is as competitive as the high school football team,” she adds. “I was going to go the academic route, but my drama teacher said, ‘You need to be an actress.’ My first role ever was playing Ophelia in ‘Hamlet,’ at 14. Even then, I understood her plight, being so in love you have no power.”

And no, she won’t reveal details of her love life. Suffice it to say that her beau is an actor in London, and they try to see each other every two weeks. That may be difficult with her role in a Merchant Ivory film, which will take her to Rajasthan, India, in January. “Searching for Sara” is about a young socialite who goes to India, forsakes material goods, falls in love with an Indian man (to be played by Kal Penn, of “Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle”), and is mysteriously murdered.

Playing strong women is nothing new for Collins. For her audition at the Juilliard School in New York, she chose two monologues. One was from a 1980s Tony Kushner play, “A Bright Room Called Day,” which drew connections between Reagan’s America and Weimar Germany.

“I played Zillah, this crazy, loud-mouth woman who has a monologue bashing Reagan,” says Collins, clearly relishing the memory. For the other, “At 17, I was attempting Cleopatra,” says Collins, laughing in a bit of disbelief. “She has [guts]. They probably thought, ‘We might as well let her in.’ ”

One of Collins’ first roles after graduating was again playing Ophelia, at Joseph Papp’s Public Theatre opposite Liev Schreiber. That 1999 production, and Collins, received mixed reviews, as did a 2001 Sir Peter Hall production of “Romeo and Juliet” at the Music Center’s Ahmanson Theatre. Collins starred opposite D.B. Woodside, with whom she was romantically linked for a time. Small parts in the movies “Down With Love,” “50 First Dates” and “13 Going on 30” followed.

To say that “Merchant of Venice” is her breakout film role would be an understatement. Although shooting wrapped in late January, Collins has chosen the time-honored artist’s tradition of living on credit cards since then rather than working. “It was important that I wait to see how this movie was received,” she says.

The most challenging aspect of her role as Portia, a part for which she beat out a number of recognizable actresses, including Winona Ryder, was transforming herself into Balthazar.

“Men don’t apologize physically; they have angular, straight lines,” says Collins, sitting up straighter in her chair, her presence more commanding now. “Men are meant to exude energy. Women are more languid; we have breasts and a bigger bum, which we sometimes try to hide.

“And vocally, men don’t apologize. It was hard for me to tell Larissa, ‘Get me a glass of water.’ To really embody masculinity and intelligence and power, you have to have your own back.”

“Having your own back” is an expression Collins repeats a few times over the course of an hour and a half, but for this young actor, it hardly seems a problem.