Hammer Horror was on a roll in the late fifties. They’d already reanimated the Frankenstein monster and dusted off Dracula's cape, so it only made sense they’d eventually turn their sights toward Baker Street. Most people think of Sherlock Holmes as this cold, clinical machine in a deerstalker hat, usually played by someone like Basil Rathbone or, more recently, Benedict Cumberbatch. But The Hound of the Baskervilles 1959 did something different. It brought blood, fog, and a palpable sense of dread to a story that, until then, had mostly been treated as a polite drawing-room mystery.
It’s Peter Cushing. Honestly, if you haven’t seen Cushing’s Holmes, you’re missing the definitive version of the character. He wasn't just acting; he was a Holmes obsessive in real life. He brought his own annotated copy of the Conan Doyle stories to the set. He corrected the props. He made sure the collars were right. That level of nerdery is why this specific 1959 adaptation feels so lived-in and authentic, even when the script starts taking wild liberties with the source material.
The Hammer Horror Glow-Up
When United Artists teamed up with Hammer Film Productions, they weren't looking for a stiff, black-and-white procedural. They wanted Technicolor. They wanted vibrant reds that looked like wet paint and deep, murky greens for the Dartmoor mires. This was the first time a Holmes story was filmed in color, and man, does it show. The 1959 version of The Hound of the Baskervilles looks like a fever dream.
The sets are repurposed from Dracula and The Revenge of Frankenstein. If the interiors of Baskerville Hall look a little familiar to horror buffs, that’s because they are. Director Terence Fisher, the guy who basically built the Hammer aesthetic, used every trick in the book to make the moor feel alive. It’s claustrophobic. It’s loud. The sound design alone—all those howling winds and bubbling mud pits—makes you feel like the ground is about to swallow Sir Henry whole.
Speaking of Sir Henry, you’ve got Christopher Lee. It’s kind of hilarious to see Lee and Cushing together without them trying to stake or decapitate each other. Lee plays Sir Henry Baskerville not as a victim, but as a man genuinely rattled by a family curse he doesn't want to believe in. It's a subtle performance in a movie that isn't always subtle.
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What They Actually Changed (And Why It Matters)
Purists usually get their feathers ruffled when movies deviate from the book. And yeah, the 1959 movie takes a sledgehammer to some of Doyle’s plot points. In the novel, the mystery is a slow burn. In the Hammer version, they add a ritualistic sacrifice subplot and a tarantula.
Yes. A tarantula.
There’s a scene where a spider crawls up Sir Henry’s shoulder while he’s just trying to relax. It’s purely there for the "creep factor," and it has absolutely nothing to do with the original plot. But strangely, it works. It fits the heightened, gothic atmosphere Hammer was famous for. They also changed the character of Cecile. In the book, Beryl Stapleton is the long-suffering wife (pretending to be the sister) of the villain. In the film, she’s a wild, vengeful femme fatale who lures men into the bog. It’s way more dramatic. It’s basically a horror movie disguised as a detective story.
The hound itself is usually the weakest link in any adaptation. It’s hard to make a glowing dog look scary. In 1939, they used a Great Dane. In 1959, they did the same but threw a mask on it. It’s... okay. Honestly, the dog is the least interesting part of the movie. The real monster is the atmosphere. It’s the feeling that the Baskerville family is being hunted by their own history.
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Why Peter Cushing Is the GOAT
Cushing understood that Holmes is a high-functioning eccentric. He’s twitchy. He’s arrogant. He’s incredibly fast. While earlier actors played Holmes like a statuesque gentleman, Cushing played him like a man who’s had six espressos and hasn't slept in three days. He does this thing with his hands—constantly moving, checking his pocket watch, lighting his pipe—that makes the character feel electric.
He also insisted on doing his own stunts where possible. There’s a bit where he’s sprinting across the moor, and you can see he’s actually doing it. He isn't some guy on a soundstage; he's out there in the damp. He also treated the "science" of Holmes with respect. When he looks through a magnifying glass, he’s actually looking for clues the way Doyle described them.
The Legacy of the 1959 Adaptation
You can see the DNA of this movie in almost every version of Holmes that followed. The BBC's Sherlock owes a lot to the pacing and the visual "pop" of the Hammer era. Even the Guy Ritchie movies, with their emphasis on action and gritty environments, feel like they’re nodding toward Terence Fisher’s vision.
It wasn't a massive hit when it first came out, which is why Hammer never made a sequel. That’s one of the great tragedies of cinema, honestly. We could have had an entire series of Cushing/Lee Holmes movies. Imagine A Study in Scarlet or The Sign of Four with that Hammer Horror production value. Instead, Cushing eventually returned to the role for a BBC series in the 60s, but it lacked the cinematic punch of the '59 film.
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Common Misconceptions
A lot of people think this movie is just a "slasher" version of Holmes. It’s not. While it has horror elements, the logic of the mystery remains intact. Holmes still uses deduction. He still outsmarts everyone in the room. He just happens to do it while surrounded by cobwebs and ancient ruins.
Another thing: people often confuse the 1959 version with the 1939 Rathbone version because they share the same title. The '39 version is great for what it is—a classic, foggy Hollywood mystery. But the '59 version is the one you watch if you want to see the "teeth" in the story. It’s meaner. It’s darker. It acknowledges that the Baskerville legend is based on a history of sexual violence and cruelty, something the older movies tended to gloss over.
Facts vs. Fiction in the Production
- The Mask: The Great Dane used for the Hound was named Colonel. He reportedly hated the mask he had to wear and kept trying to shake it off during takes.
- The Set: The "mire" was actually a tank filled with water, cork, and various rotting vegetation to give it that stagnant look. It supposedly smelled terrible.
- The Cost: Hammer spent about £80,000 on the film, which was a decent budget for them at the time, but nothing compared to the big studio epics. They made every penny look like ten on screen.
How to Watch It Today
If you're going to dive in, don't look for a grainless, hyper-cleaned-up 4K version if you can help it. This movie thrives on a bit of grit. The colors should be saturated—that's the point—but the shadows should be deep. It’s currently available on most major streaming platforms for rent, and the Blu-ray releases usually have some great commentary tracks from film historians who can point out all the recycled props from other Hammer movies.
If you’re a fan of the novel, go in with an open mind. Don’t get hung up on the fact that the ending happens differently or that certain characters have been merged. Look at it as a "remix." It’s the Gothic version of the story that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle probably would have enjoyed, given his own obsession with the paranormal and the macabre.
Actionable Insights for Fans and Collectors
If you want to truly appreciate what happened on that set in 1959, here is what you should do next:
- Watch for the "Cushing Props": Look closely at the snuff box and the pipes Holmes uses. Cushing bought many of those himself from antique shops to ensure they matched the Victorian era perfectly.
- Compare the "Stapleton" Character: Read the book's version of Jack Stapleton and then watch Christopher Lee’s performance. The movie shifts the "villainy" around to create a more immediate threat for the camera.
- Check the Credits: Notice the names like Jack Asher (Cinematography) and James Bernard (Music). These are the architects of the Hammer sound and look. Bernard’s score for this film is particularly aggressive and helps drive the tension.
- Visit the "Locations": While much was filmed at Bray Studios, the second unit footage of Dartmoor is real. If you ever find yourself in Devon, visit Chaw Gully. It's the real-life inspiration for the "Great Grimpen Mire," and it's just as spooky in person.
The 1959 Hound remains a masterpiece of atmosphere. It’s a reminder that Sherlock Holmes doesn't always have to be a sterile intellectual exercise. Sometimes, he’s a man in a very dangerous world, facing off against monsters that are very, very real—even if they’re just men in masks.