Murder mysteries and spy flicks will never get old. It is truly fascinating how a genre that was supposed to be taken very lightly from the very beginning has grown such a huge cult following and became a thing in itself. Moreover, one has to admit that spy flicks seem to have a certain development arch. What seemed thrilling several decades ago has become completely dated now, which means that modern detective novels need both develop new means to stay fresh and at the same time keep that air of timelessness to retain its devoted fans. Although modern British detective stories differ greatly from such doubtless classics as Casino Royale and The Spy Who Came in Late , they still manage to suck the readers in with strangely surreal characters and details, creating a kind of a fairy tale for the adults and, therefore, providing its readers with a pretext for another moment of escapism. Starting appropriately with the analysis of the main characters, one will have to mention that Fleming was not the first author to introduce the conflicting dynamics between the antagonist and the lead character; the tradition of developing an anti-hero as the element that is supposed to balance out the protagonist goes back to the traditions of the Greek drama. Therefore, other ways to introduce the dynamics between the two characters must have developed over time. However, the staple of a good spy versus the bad spy had stuck in the British detective literature for quite long after Fleming developed the conflict between the impeccable Mr. Bond and le Chiffre, the villain: “Like the gentleman you are, you very kindly gave me a note explaining the circumstances so that I would have no difficulty in cashing your cheque” (Fleming 107). Also featured in Le Care’s novel, the tension between Leamas and Mundt has set the stage for a time-honored tradition of drawing a clear line between the positive and the negative character: “It was odd how soon Leamas had realized that Mundt was the writing on the wail” (Le Carre 9). Though the given feature of detective novels seemed rather interesting at first, its novelty obviously faded out as time passed; the audience clearly wanted the characters that were more dimensional. Despite an evident development of the “good guys” and the “bad guys” in modern spy flicks, sadly enough, there is still a tangible tendency in glorifying the protagonists and dragging their opponents through the mud. The villain is no longer the representative of the “Red Russia,” like in Fleming and Le Carre’s novels. Nevertheless, the modern British writers tend to make the antagonist as unlikable as possible, thus, creating a foil for the leading character development. Which is even more upsetting, the antagonist often has no character arch, even a clichéd one; the plot is, therefore, reduced to the traditional good versus evil battle. Needless to mention, Bond has spawned a series of nonchalant detectives with a lust for gambling, incredible fighting skills and amazingly attractive looks. Unlike Le Carre, who allowed his character to be less noticeable, Fleming made James Bond “tough”(Fleming 20) and “pretty good with the cards or he wouldn’t have sat in the Casino in Monte Carlo for two months before the war watching that Roumanian team work their stuff with the invisible ink and the dark glasses” (Flemin