Oh, Lord, Roger, now you've done it: I have a fondness for the L & B Monorail which gets well into "obsession" territory -- could easily become a career bore about this line, which I would so love to have seen at first-hand...
Mercifully for all concerned
; your very interesting linked material tells the greatly-most part, with admirable thoroughness. A few extra things: the line's October 1924, sadly early, closure date -- with line's "inbuilt" characteristics tending toward hampering its viability, plus its having been quite badly damaged in Ireland's 1922 - 23 civil war: at the Irish Free State's equivalent of our "Grouping" -- all railway undertakings purely within the Free State, merged as the Great Southern Railways w.e.f the beginning of 1925 -- it is understood that the Great Southern totally refused to take on the L & B, seen as utterly weird and commercially a total loser; and in no position to carry on as an independent concern. While feeling the GSR to have behaved here, in a rather Scrooge-like way; one kind of sees their point.
There's a film -- taken of the railway near the end of its operational life -- which I've seen two or three times: something between five and ten minutes long IIRC -- have heard it claimed as the only surviving film of the railway, though am not sure of the truth of that claim: various film material is mentioned as viewable at the museum set-up at Listowel... one of the film clips linked to in the OP, comprises a few very brief excerpts of this much-longer film. The still picture linked to, showing "travelling staircase" marshalled into train for passengers to cross the tracks -- with them doing so at a station -- comes, I'm sure, from this film.
"Personal" thing here, re film referred to above: said film was part of the repertoire of the late John Huntley, showman of film items on railway and other subjects. I've posted about Huntley elsewhere on these Forums -- my feelings about him are mixed. He showed a lot of terrific stuff; somewhat marred for me by -- particularly in the later years of his career -- my finding his commentaries on same, intensely annoying. He displayed the trait attributed to politicians, of "speaking a great deal and saying very little": in my perception, when he wasn't giving inaccurate information, he was wordily stating the screamingly obvious. The very end of the film (abbreviatedly captured in the clip linked-to here as described) shows one of the line's "drawbridge" road crossings in "down" position, being crossed by two guys in a horse-drawn gig, followed by a dog (you can see the dog for just an instant in the clip). Huntley always said at this point -- with his exaggeratedly "upper-crust" diction and accent -- "and going across, here are two Irishmen -- and Rover". This platitude -- especially the final word as rendered by him, "Reauw--VAH !" -- always made me want to throw something at the twit. One shouldn't speak ill of the dead, etc.; but, oh my word...
France's steam Lartigue monorail on the same principle, from Feurs to Panissieres (told of in linked item, including photograph of the outfit), was a sad "might-have-been-but-never-truly-was". According to W.J.K. Davies's
Minor Railways of France, this line had a sort of ghostly existence for half a dozen years around turn of 19th / 20th centuries -- was built in its entirety, but was not found to function all that well: matters not helped by a test train on which a party of local notables were travelling as per invitation, getting derailed. Things got further fouled-up owing to various bureaucratic "bother" -- the line's promoters finally gave up, and the whole thing was scrapped without ever having run in public service.