Every up-and-coming filmmaker dreams of making the perfect short film, a 10-minute powerhouse of such promise that it becomes a standing invitation to lunches at the major studios and a multipicture deal. But for every short film that wins awards or acclaim at film festivals, there are thousands that go unnoticed.

Every once in a while, though, there is that masterpiece that captivates the critics, a film that can do more in 10 minutes than most hired guns can accomplish in 100. Perhaps the most storied short film ever made is 1929’s “Un Chien Andalou,” a collaboration between the filmmaker Luis Buñuel and the artist Salvador Dalí (now available on YouTube and in the Dalí show beginning Sunday at MoMA). A bold work of Surrealism that used montage both to imply and to obliterate meaning (a cloud slices through the moon just as a razor blade slices a woman’s eye), “Un Chien Andalou” aims to repel viewers and force them out of complacent viewing.

It would take some 70 years for another short film to similarly enthrall audiences and critics. In 2000, a number of prominent Canadian filmmakers were invited to attend the Toronto Film Festival as part of its 25th anniversary celebration. There, they were asked to make short films celebrating cinema that would show before festival screenings. By festival’s end, one of the shorts had been singled out as the best film of the festival bar none. American critics returned south with news of this masterpiece, named “The Heart of the World.” Some included the 6-minute, 16-second epic (5:44 without credits) as one of the year’s 10 best films.

The film, which is included in the Museum of Modern Art’s current tribute to Zeitgeist Films, was made by Guy Maddin, who was well-known at the time by critics but unknown to audiences. It was the explosion of enthusiasm surrounding “The Heart of the World” that helped Mr. Maddin secure wider distribution for such works as “The Saddest Music in the World,” “Brand Upon The Brain!” and “My Winnipeg,” which opened in New York this month.

“The Heart of the World” is crafted in the style of a Soviet propaganda film, silent except for a musical score and the occasional sound effect. In the opening shot, we stare straight into the unblinking eye of a state scientist named Anna as she looks through her instruments, studying the innards of the Earth. The planet’s heart is ailing, and she is the first to see it. She rushes to warn her fellow citizens. But distracting her are two young suitors she loves equally — Nikolai, a young mortician, who revels in dissecting and burying bodies, and Osip, an actor who is playing Jesus Christ in a Passion play.

Both vie for the scientist’s heart on Earth’s final day, one trying to exert influence through religion, the other resorting to sex and violence. Meanwhile, a wealthy industrialist threatens to distract Anna with his piles of money. As the capitalist moves in, the Earth suffers a heart attack. In a last-ditch effort to save the planet, Anna abandons her science, her communism, and her men in hopes of sacrificing herself for the greater good.

As with all of Mr. Maddin’s films, the plot is all but irrelevant. Mr. Maddin pays homage to the form and feel of silent films while also pushing an Eisenstein-ian editing scheme to the extreme (some have said the movie averages two shots a second). There is shadow play and modern dance, a careful manipulation of lighting, focus, and title cards, and a breathtaking array of flimsy sets and special effects. It’s an experiment oozing with creativity, layered in a knowledge of cinematic theory, history, and artistry.