Among literary figures whose adventures have been translated to the screen, none have appeared as often as Sherlock Holmes. Arthur Conan Doyle’s pipe-smoking rationalist — the “consulting detective” with little patience for fools, a fondness for the violin, and a cocaine habit frowned upon by his friend, Dr. John H. Watson — has been seen on film since 1900. Basil Rathbone, Jeremy Brett, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Robert Downey Jr.: Every cinematic Holmes has his admirers, but only one of them is fit for a king.

That would be the English actor Peter Cushing (1913-94). Story has it that when Cushing received an Order of the British Empire award in 1989, Prince Charles told the actor that his portrayal of Holmes was the best. His Majesty was referring to a 16-episode program that was broadcast on the BBC between 1968 and 1969. A dedicated craftsman forever eager to ply his trade, Cushing found the series trying. He told a fellow actor, Douglas Wilmer, that he “would rather sweep Paddington Station for a living than go through the experience again.”

Cushing’s final appearance as Holmes was in a television film, “The Mask of Death” (1984). The 70-year-old actor, being something of a Holmes scholar, insisted that the character be made age-appropriate. There was no problem with chronology in the actor’s initial outing as the detective in “The Hound of the Baskervilles” (1959), the first Holmes film made in color. Cushing, in physiognomy and manner, couldn’t have been more perfect. A Blu-ray edition of the film will soon be released by Sandpiper Pictures.

Is this the finest film adaptation of the Conan Doyle novel, as some fans would have it? Sitting down to watch its many adaptations would try the patience of the most devoted scholar — there are more than two-dozen versions from places as far from Baker Street as Japan, Russia, and Italy. This particular take on Holmes was made by Hammer Studios, the British production company best known for a series of period horror movies that were gothic in character, made on the cheap, and peppered with decolletage. The actors who stalked their cobwebbed byways included Oliver Reed, Ralph Bates, Christopher Lee, and Cushing.

For Boomers, Cushing is probably best known as the righteous Dr. Van Helsing in sundry Dracula movies, or as a ruthless Dr. Frankenstein in a similar run of entertainments. For younger audiences, Cushing is recognizable as Grand Moff Tarkin — basically, Darth Vader’s boss — in George Lucas’ “Star Wars” (1977). Cushing claimed that he was the original choice to play Obi Wan Kenobi, but was prevented from doing so due to scheduling conflicts. Whatever the case, he earned more for his duties on that film than did newbies Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher, and Mark Hamill.

“The Hound of the Baskervilles” shouldn’t be oversold. Like most Hammer productions, it is hamstrung by budgetary constraints: The cast is small, the locations few, and the script choppy. Having said that, it is a remarkably fulsome production, as lurid in color as any other Hammer picture, but also richer in tonality and spirited in rhythm. Director Terence Fisher proves fleet, particularly during the opening segment in which we learn about the cruelties of Sir Hugo Baskerville and the beginnings of the myth that bears his name.

As with any property whose corners have become common knowledge, “The Hound of the Baskervilles” is best appreciated for atmosphere and character. Reusing the sets from “Horror of Dracula” (1958), this Holmes mystery bends to the conventions of Hammer horror films more than Conan Doyle might have preferred. Andre Morrell brings his Shakespearan chops to the role of Dr. Watson, making him less of a buffoon in the process. Cushing’s pitiless take on Holmes is appealingly snippy: It’s reason enough to pass 90-minutes with this endearingly creaky whodunit.