`Dreams' aims to build on reality-TV fervor

There's nothing real about reality TV, and anyone who says there is needs a wake-up call. Cameras under the covers, microphones in the shower? Nothing like that happens in our reality, not so far as we know.

It is surreal at best.

So it was with some trepidation that we agreed to watch A&E's coming entry in the reality-TV race, a cross between "Trading Spaces" and "Survivor: Pearl Islands."

The show is called "House of Dreams," and it debuts Monday night at 9 with an episode that chronicles the arrival of 16 participants on the swampy shore of a lagoon near Harmony, Fla. It's a short canoe trip to the site where they will build that dream house. The catch: Only one of them can own it.

George Wendt (Norm Peterson from the landmark sitcom "Cheers") is the host. "Sort of a sounding board, actually," he relates weeks after the filming.

"I tried to give them plenty of space [and] remain as neutral as possible. But I am sort of a judge, and a `mouthpiece' for the producers."

Make no bones about it, Wendt has no home-building skills of his own, none whatsoever. "One Christmas I gave my wife a toolbox," he says, "and another year a garlic press, but that's about it."

He adds that he's a great believer in specialization of trade: "When they came to me, my first question was, `Why?' " he says, "I'm not a broadcaster. Doing smooth patter on camera is not my long suit."

A&E had a vision, though, and Wendt most certainly was the guy they wanted to host this series, perhaps because in real life (there's that word again), he's a nonthreatening fellow -- amiable and anything but egocentric.

"No, no, no, no, no," he says and makes a tone-it-down gesture with one hand as the 16 participants set up a round of applause upon his arrival. They gather at the foundation -- already laid -- for the dream house to come.

Wendt's first bit of "help" is to issue hard hats and tool belts and then to point the 16 in the direction of their "digs," accommodations that turn out to be Army-type tents with netting walls, camp cots, and no air conditioning.

"I stayed down the road at the hotel" for the eight-week duration of the shoot, Wendt says.

Tony, a 34-year-old with a wife and two children in a homeless shelter in Orlando, Fla., is surprised when men and women begin to choose bunks in the same tent. He seems flustered by the co-ed arrangements.

Mike, 26, a bartender, hangs back and waits to see where the good-looking girls settle before picking his perch, and Jared -- also known as "Diggy," a down-on-his-luck record producer -- establishes himself as a stinker from the start, declaring within the first 15 minutes, "There's a couple of people I don't think can physically make it."

After a "campfire" meeting at which each participant tells his or her story, Diggy observes, "This seems to be a matter of who's got the worst story. It's interesting to listen to, but it goes in one ear and out the other. It's like a movie."

Conversely, some are moved to tears by Tony and others' stories of hardship and their desire for a fresh start.

"The contestants were a very impressive group," Wendt says. "I personally was in awe of a few of them. They are really bright, sensitive, really alive. And I got caught up in the drama myself. I think that's the key," he says, to making this reality show real. "They did a great job of casting this."

And so it goes right through the first day, when the crew members meet the building contractor and begin to get their hands dirty, cutting rebar and pouring cement.

A nameless participant observes in a voice-over: "We were so proud of ourselves, high-fiving and congratulating each other on that first day of work."

The tone of her voice speaks volumes about where they were to go from there in a story that will play out on Monday nights for 13 episodes.