Lina and Stephie, the two Finnish backpackers followed in Hotel Coolgardie. Director Pete Gleeson films their job interview in Perth. He had worked in the goldfields, knew the hotel in Coolgardie and had seen a series of backpacker barmaids come and go. When the pub owner called the agency for new recruits, Gleeson filmed all 30 applicants – to ensure he had access to the ones who got the job. That's important, because observational documentary in its classic form has rules: strict non-interference being the first. In theory, the documentary maker tries to avoid influencing the situation they are filming. In practice, that's as achievable as me walking on Mars. The two young Finns walk into a hard place. The publican puts out a sign saying "New Girls Tonite". The sad, lonely, alcoholic and bitter come to ogle. The idea of "responsible drinking" here is a farce. Pete the publican sits beside the bar swearing at the new girls while he gets pickled, along with his customers. The later it gets, the worse the comments.

Fairly quickly, Gleeson establishes that some of the young guys compete for who will sleep with one of the new girls first. That becomes the primary tension, as Steph and Lina hold fast. The idea makes them guffaw. Gleeson filmed for eight weeks in the pub. He almost becomes invisible, as the observational filmmaker aims to be, but it's clear in certain scenes that his presence stops some potentially threatening behaviour. A few of the patrons are sinister and lonely – a lethal combination. The longer the chase goes on, the less comfortable the women are in this ugly pageant. Gleeson films a camping trip where everyone gets legless. He films a stumbling Lina retiring to the back of a "shaggin' wagon" with a young miner, and the reaction of her friends. The next day, he films her remorse. It's difficult to know when to stop filming, but there was never a possibility here that he would stop. He has made the sexual conquest the centrepiece of his story. That's where I think the film succumbs to the television demons, the Big Brother idea of drama. Steph and Lina are heroic spirits, fighting to hold their own, but Gleeson puts himself on the wrong side of the bar too often.

It's a fascinating, appalling, revealing film about the murkier end of Australian masculinity. Gleeson tries to be fair to all concerned, including the drunk and dishevelled, but his presence inflames the drama in subtle ways. It may be that observational documentary as we knew it is dead. Or it just might need more rigour.