Secrecy, a documentary about the benefits and detriments of government secrets, is the most powerful film I've seen at the fest so far. Directors Peter Galison and Robb Moss artfully lay out both sides of the argument. On the one hand, leaking a tapped network, like the one tapped after the 1983 bombing of the American Embassy in Beirut, can result in terrorists abandoning that network, which in that case prevented foreknowledge of the far deadlier barracks bombing in the city later that year by the same terrorists.
On the other hand, when information is made public, it can actually help crack a case. For 12 years the FBI tried to find the Unabomber to no avail, but when his letters were finally published in newspapers, his brother picked one up and identified the ramblings right away. And excessive secrecy can actually aid terrorist activity. In reference to Zacarias Moussaoui's August 2001 immigration violation arrest (and subsequent discovery of weapons and shit), the 9/11 Commission asserted, "Publicity about Moussaoui's arrest and a possible hijacking threat might have derailed the plot." What if secrecy, rather than helping security, actually hinders it?
But the scariest aspect of secrecy run amok is the idea that it can enable absolute power. If I told you that from now on, nothing you did would ever be discovered by another living soul, what would you do? The only limit would be your own morality, and even that might break down after a while. If you have a situation where anybody asking "What are you doing?" or "Why did you do that?" can get the answer, "I can't tell you because it's a secret," and have that be a valid legal claim, the person who can say that can do anything to anybody and never have to say why or even what they did.
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