'Dracula, Lord of the Damned' was originally shot entirely on the cinematograph ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cin%C3%A9matographe ) by it's rightful originator, Aloysius Monahan Wildebeast Trout, in 1901. Although feature length films were still a generation away, Trout, driven by a strange obsessive mania, conceived a film based on Bram Stoker's 'Dracula' years before the technology existed to make any kind of film run more than a few seconds.
The fact that there was no way to feasibly exhibit such a film at the time did not deter him, and he in fact proposed the construction of a mutoscope ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutoscope ) the size of a ferris wheel, which would require a team of horses to revolve in order that a single viewer could enjoy the entire three and a half hour epic as a gigantic flip-book. Needless to say, despite the elaborate nature of Trout's designs for the machine, it proved impossible to construct, and in fact several men were injured in the attempt.
After squandering a small fortune that had been left to him by his immediate antecedents, Trout was left with a warehouse full of mutoscope cards each bearing a single frame of his epic, and a cartload of wax cylinder recordings (bearing the recorded soundtrack which was to have been played on the gramophone as the viewer enjoyed the film), and no access whatever to the copyrighted novel upon which his masterpiece was based.
Trout died a broken man, giving apocalyptic sermons on street corners to attract passersby, then telling them filthy jokes for beer money.
Then in 2005, the keys to Aloysius Monahan Wildebeast Trout's warehouse came into the possession of his descendant, Theodore Normal Moron Trout. Having been brain-damaged in a nail-gun fight at birth, the younger Trout was even more possessed of an obsessive mania for perseverating on monotonous repetitive tasks, and quickly set to work scanning every single mutoscope card into his home computer, one by one by one. Many of the cards had been damaged by mould and weevils, but through the miracles of Photoshop and Perseveration, each has been lovingly restored to at least some level of watchability. By judicious use of 'cross-dissolves' (impossible in Aloysius' day), the running time has been shortened to around 100 minutes, and the soundtrack restored and synced as nearly as possible to the film itself. Add to this the fact that Bram Stoker's 'Dracula' entered the public domain in the 1970's, and it is now finally possible to enjoy this remarkable find of unknown Early Cinema.