When Doctor Who first introduced audiences to the Daleks, it didn’t need an explosion or a lengthy monologue. It only needed a plunger. That iconic cliffhanger shot at the end of the very first episode of “The Daleks” — just the tip of a sinister metal appendage creeping into view — is still one of the most chilling and effective introductions in television history. You don’t even see the creature, but you know something dreadful has arrived. That’s the beauty of classic Who: it made imagination the most powerful special effect of all.
The story itself unfolds with the unhurried rhythm of early television, where atmosphere is allowed to simmer rather than sprint. The Doctor, Susan, Ian, and Barbara land on a strange, dead world littered with petrified plants and metallic ruins. The landscape of Skaro is eerie — part jungle, part graveyard — and when they stumble upon the Dalek city, curiosity turns into claustrophobia. The episodes weave a slow but deliberate tale of exploration, paranoia, and survival as the travellers realise they’re caught between two races: the mutated Daleks and the peaceful but weakened Thals. It’s a morality play dressed in tin and fog.
What’s remarkable about the 2023 colourised version is how respectfully it reimagines this monochrome classic. The colourisation, handled with digital finesse and a painter’s eye, doesn’t feel garish or artificial. Instead, it adds dimension — an almost dreamlike depth — to the alien world of Skaro. The metallic blues, smoky greys, and washed-out oranges lend an otherworldly quality that the original black-and-white version hinted at but could never fully express. For a story that was already a milestone, it’s a visual resurrection.
And yes, there’s an undeniable echo of the Peter Cushing Dalek films here — “Dr. Who and the Daleks” (1965) and “Daleks’ Invasion Earth 2150 A.D.” (1966) — both gloriously colourful cinematic takes on this same material. Those films went big: lavish sets, flamboyant lighting, and a family-friendly charm that turned the Daleks into pop-culture icons overnight. The BBC’s colourised restoration doesn’t attempt to compete with the films’ spectacle but instead captures something quieter and truer. It’s less about grandeur, more about tone — a loving enhancement rather than a remake.
The pacing remains of its time, but that’s part of the appeal. This is Doctor Who before the sonic screwdriver, before budget inflation, before anyone had even whispered the word “Time Lord.” The Doctor is still cantankerous and cunning, William Hartnell’s performance walking the line between alien intellect and stubborn mischief. He’s unpredictable, occasionally irritable, and endlessly watchable. The supporting cast — William Russell, Jacqueline Hill, and Carole Ann Ford — each ground the fantastical in human vulnerability, and their terror feels genuine.
In the colourised cut, even the Daleks themselves gain new menace. Their domed casings gleam with oily metallic lustre, their eyestalks glint under fluorescent light, and the throbbing control panels behind them pulsate in menacing rhythm. You realise that what once felt like clunky props now seem — somehow — alive. The sound design remains eerily intact: that mechanical rasp, that electric hum of alien hatred. You half expect them to roll straight out of the screen and into your living room.
It’s easy to be cynical about these modern reworkings — to call them gimmicks or nostalgia cash-ins — but The Daleks (Colourised) proves that when done right, they can breathe genuine life into old material. The editing is tighter, the pacing smoothed, yet the spirit of 1963 remains untouched. It’s like opening a time capsule and finding the air still fresh.
For long-time fans, it’s a beautiful restoration of a formative moment in television history. For newcomers, it’s an accessible gateway into the roots of the longest-running sci-fi series on Earth. And for everyone else, it’s proof that a simple cliffhanger with a plunger can still outshine entire fleets of CGI.
So, yes — the colour may be new, but the magic remains gloriously old.
