Citizen Wayne

On the SNL set, the cast's chemistry is already subtly recalibrating itself; the difference is apparent in jokes, jabs, words of encouragement. ''Carvey, you bastard!'' roars Phil Hartman amiably, his voice booming down SNL's dressing-room corridor. ''You're gonna be a teen superstar! You've shaved 20 years off your career!'' And shortly after Aykroyd says his goodbyes, NBC News anchor Chuck Scarborough arrives, his 14-year-old son in tow. ''Hey,'' the kid whispers, cocking his head toward Myers. ''There's Wayne.''

Despite Wayne's World's success at the box office, Garth's days as Wayne's Ed McMahon are numbered; Carvey plans to leave SNL when his contract expires on midnight of Election Day. ''I couldn't miss the chance to play George Bush in an election year,'' he says, ''but at this point, I really can't foresee staying past that. That'll be six years, and there's a point of diminishing returns.''

As for Myers, he has no plans to leave SNL or to pull the plug on Wayne. ''No,'' he says, laughing, ''Wayne is going to be the character of Dorian Gray!'' But, he continues, ''I have to admit, I hope to God I'm not doing this at 40. That'd be a little sad.''

As Friday night gives way to Saturday morning and the marathon rehearsal continues, Lorne Michaels sits in his turret of an office, a soundproof aerie whose interior windows overlook the Saturday Night Live studio. Michaels shepherded the show through its first five seasons (''The golden years,'' he says dryly, ''although as I recall, they weren't particularly golden''), left for five years, during which the show's quality sagged, then returned in 1985 and is generally credited with reviving its fortunes. Now SNL's ratings are the highest in years; Michaels' former boss Brandon Tartikoff is running Paramount and eager to make SNL films; and Michaels is savoring his status as the show's prematurely gray eminence. Discussions are already under way for a film full of original sketches (think SNL — The Motion Picture). Dana Carvey says he'd love to make Hans and Franz Go to Hollywood. And, says Michaels, ''Danny (Aykroyd) and I have talked about a Coneheads movie.''

But Michaels tempers his enthusiasm with the headachy realities of running the show. Since 1975, he has watched actor after actor decide that some Not Ready for Prime Time Players are more equal than others, and seen the ego-bloating and ego-bruising that occur when a movie career beckons a member of the ensemble. The show now counts over 40 alumni from the core cast, in fact, outside Michaels' office, Dennis Miller, class of '91, can be heard on TV doing a remarkable imitation (did someone say rip- off?) of ''Weekend Update'' on his new talk show, a coincidence Michaels notes with utter inscrutability.

SNL's current cast, he acknowledges, is known for its congeniality. Still...''Greed is a funny thing,'' he says, nursing a beer and rolling a steel Slinky back and forth in his palm. ''It twists people's souls and ethics. People do all sorts of things that you wouldn't expect.'' But he emphasizes his delight with Myers and Carvey, adding that Wayne's World has given him no cause for concern. "No, no one killed anyone," he says, smiling. ''We're all still standing. But if it's successful — and this has happened before — people may change. They could become...'' — he pauses, searching for le mot juste — ''big dicks.''

Right now, that's the one schwing nobody wants to hear.

One More Saturday Night
''Gilda Radner used to call this an underrehearsed Broadway opening every week,'' says Mike Myers of Saturday Night Live's frenetic production schedule. ''And Fridays are the hardest-they're long, they're exhausting, they're very stoppy-starty.'' On Friday, Feb. 7, one night before Susan Dey's guest-hosting stint on the show, the cast's rehearsal didn't end until after midnight, with a conference-table meal of take-out Chinese food and popcorn. That night, Myers had a particularly busy show: His roles included Harry Hamlin, Danny Bonaduce, Mike Tyson's lawyer, a janitor, an art-museum visitor, and half of a blind-date duo. ''You learn to pace yourself,'' he says. ''You can be in nothing one show and 10 things the next week.'' For guest hosts, Myers has less philosophical advice: ''Just go slow,'' he tells them. ''And don't be afraid to look at the cards.''