DEAN CAIN IS WATCHING videotape of himself. And even he's impressed. The actor has swung by the sparsely decorated Warner Bros. looping room to lay in some last-minute dialogue. (Example: ''Lois! Lois!'') And there, up on the TV, it's...it's...Superman! Cain inspects his alter ego's Metropolis-size shoulders, popping pecs, bulging biceps. In fact, Superman is looking so big, Cain figures the tech guys must have compressed the picture. ''It's not squished?'' Cain asks a producer. Nope, it's the real thing, he is told. ''Really? I'm looking that strong?'' Yes! Well, you can't blame the guy for admiring himself. After all, that 6-foot, 195-pound expertly buffed bod is at least part of the reason why Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman -- ABC's Hepburn-and-Tracy take on the Superman -- Lois Lane romance -- has broken into the top 20 opposite heavy hitters Cybill, The Simpsons, and Mad About You. Certainly, the show would be mighty dull without large doses of Cain's whip-smart and bantering (though still slightly nerdy) reporter.
But then there's his less cerebral charm: that straight-off-the-Parthenon physique. When the former Princeton football star slips into those tights to leap a tall building or wrestle a villain, you can fairly hear the heavy breathing from half the viewing population. (Unless you are among the other half too busy downloading Internet pictures of wide-eyed costar Teri Hatcher to notice.) Says coproducer Jim Michaels: ''When his shirt comes off, it's worth a couple ratings points.'' SEVERAL HOURS before the dubbing, Cain is set to work on that Nielsen-friendly chest. ''The gym is closed,'' says Cain, 29, with a grin. ''But voila!'' He unfurls his hand to reveal a key.
With Coke machine-size personal trainer in tow, Cain unlocks a glass door, bounces into the Warner Bros. gym, pops some Soul Asylum into the CD player, and starts grunting. His goal: 6 percent body fat. (He's now at 8 1/2.) ''I'm going to get in better and better and better and better shape,'' he says without a smile. But wait! Don't go confusing all this testosterone and iron with superficiality. ''This is only a small part of my day,'' he says, hinting at a split in his personality. For Cain does have two sides -- sides just as distinct as, well, that fellow with a cape and his Daily Planet counterpart.
On the one hand, you have the gym-bound, just-one-of-the-guys Cain. The one who got into bar fights after college, avoids the black-turtleneck set, discusses the Green Bay Packers with the crew, throws around phrases like ''Hey, boss!'' and chugs brewskies. This Cain will tell you, ''I didn't want to be an English major because I didn't want to overanalyze s -- -.'' (He majored in history instead.) He'll tell you he hated those acting classes he took at Princeton, the kind where you worship Stanislavsky and do breathing exercises: ''Be a tree? YOU be a tree.'' Ask this Cain what he reads, and he'll more readily tell you what he doesn't. ''That self-help psychology crap...[it's]for people who are searchers.''
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