One of UK's oldest cinemas first built in the 1930s in stunning Art Deco building to SHUT after bitter legal dispute
AN HISTORIC cinema is set to shut down after several years of bitter legal disputes.
The cinema will be closing for redevelopments almost a century after it was built in 1934.
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After years of legal disputes, the Curzon Mayfair in London has withdrawn from litigation, allowing for the site to be redeveloped which is expected to begin in January 2026.
Curzon had spent several years trying to negotiate a new long-term lease with the landlord before it expired in March 2024.
A petition to save the cinema was signed by more than 20,000 people who enjoy regular premiere screenings, with directors like Stephen Spielberg attending for his film The Fablemans.
Now though, the landlord will be going ahead with plans to refurbish the building themselves, meaning Curzon will no longer run the cinema.
In a recent statement, Curzon said: "Sadly, Curzon has concluded that it had no option but to withdraw its legal challenge to the landlord's plans, given the risk of meeting the landlord's enormous legal costs should the challenge prove unsuccessful."
They previously expressed concern that: "Curzon Mayfair will become no more than a glorified private members' club rather than a cinema and an iconic cultural institution will be lost forever."
The site will be taken over by Fantasio, a development company with a successful history in rejuvenating London social spaces.
CEO Dan Zaum said in a statement: "We are passionate about creating London's ultimate cinema experience.
"The Mayfair cinema will always have film at its heart - and will become a vibrant venue serving the wider community, creatively, socially, educationally and beyond."
They previously promised to spend £15 million on refurbishing the site, hoping to restore the cinema's original features and install new audio and visual screen technology.
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The cinema itself will keep its two screens, while a new bar and dine-in restaurant will be built to enhance the movie-going experience.
In a 2023 statement, the CEO of Fantasio said: "I see the Mayfair cinema being reinstated to its former glory and reinventing the art of cinema-going.
"This iconic piece of architecture and integral part of London's cinematic history is yearning for revival."
They also promised "a wide range of ticket prices" to ensure "that no-one feels this beautiful cinema is beyond their budget."
Curzon criticised the landlord's plans, concerned that the cost of development would lead to expensive ticket prices and a "private members' club for the super-wealthy."
They also fought back against Fantasio's claims that the cinema was in decline.
They said: "Any suggestion by the landlord that it is a venue in decline is demonstrably false."
Instead, they said they had experienced 25 per cent year-on-year growth in ticket sales over the past financial quarter.
Fantasio previously successfully refurbished KOKO in Camden in a three year project that was delayed by fire and water damage.
KOKO's redevelopment cost £70 million and was celebrated with reopening parties by the likes of Jorja Smith and Pete Doherty.
They also oversaw the redevelopment of The Ned and The Wolseley, both iconic London venues that have had a new lease of life since the redevelopment.
What is happening across hospitality and the cinema sector?
Odeon confirmed it would close five of its branches in May last year.
Cineworld has revealed six UK sites it will close as it enters the first phase of a major restructuring.
Empire Cinema also closed multiple sites in 2023 after falling into administration in July of the same year.
The company made the decision following "a thorough assessment of all available options".
The hospitality sector has been struggling too.
In April, family favourite restaurant chain Whitbread revealed it was set to shut more than 200 locations and axe 1,500 jobs.
It shared the plans in its full year results, saying it planned to convert 112 restaurants into hotel extensions while closing 126 "loss-making" venues.
Pub giant Wetherspoons has been closing boozers across the UK too, and Byron Burger fell into administration last year.
In March, pizza giant Papa Johns said it would close dozens of locations.
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At Mapperton House, a Jacobean manor in west Dorset, Luke Montagu, 12 th Earl of Sandwich and his American wife, Julie, Countess of Sandwich, are engaging in the most un-British of behaviour: asking for money. They've set up a camera on a tripod in the mustard-painted library, a light-filled room with a grand piano and mullion windows overlooking the walled garden, and are filming themselves launching a YouTube crowdfunder. The Earl, 55, in an untucked pink shirt and grey trousers, lifts two threadbare manuscripts from one of the bookcases and passes them to the Countess, 51, who is also casually dressed in a striped top, blonde hair tied in a messy bun. She places them carefully onto a cushion on a table. 'I had no idea that they're the Fourth Earl's handwritten journals from his Grand Tour,' she excitedly tells viewers. 'We're going to get them restored, so we're starting a fundraiser – I've found an expert to resew and rebind them in an 18th-century way.' 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At Mapperton, by contrast, crowdfunding and digital revenues now constitute more than 25 per cent of the estate's annual income. The family has been struggling to get Mapperton out of the red since the Earl's grandfather, Victor Montagu, fell on hard times and downsized to the estate in 1962, having been forced to sell Hitchingbrooke, the family's seat near Cambridge. But the Earl and Countess, who have four children aged from 19 to 26 (the older two from the Countess's previous marriage) believe that if they keep doing what they're doing it's only a matter of time before Mapperton is financially sustainable – which in the world of historic houses is almost unheard of. 'I don't want to jinx it, but by the time we hand it over to the next generation, it should be making money,' the Earl confirms. It's notoriously difficult to gain any kind of following on YouTube, but the Montagus both had a background in media, which helped. 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With the Countess as presenter, the Earl as producer and Nestor, 19, their youngest son, as sound man, they created their first crowdfunding video. They were touring All Saints, the estate's church, in June 2020, when the Countess first asked the public for donations to repoint the stonework, which was coming apart and donations – mainly from Americans – began to flood in: £1,500 in total. Did the in-laws hide their heads in shame? Not at all, the Countess says. 'We'd read out the donors' names, which they loved,' she explains. 'I'd say, thank you so much, George, from Sacramento, California, who has just given $50 (£42.50) and my mother-in-law would say, 'Fantastic! We'll even take your dimes.' Soon, the Montagus were producing a regular Saturday night show, Mapperton Live, which continues to this day. 'We over-engineered it to begin with,' the Earl says. 'These days, we never do a second take. Your audience buys into you as people – they find they share your values and interests.' Not many followers will have titles and live in a stately home, though. Do they ever get trolled? 'People are mostly incredibly nice, although we used to get some nasty comments,' the Earl says. The Countess is nodding. 'They said, Julie, do you ever comb your hair?' Did she find that hurtful? 'Never. I don't take it personally. Some people find that hard. For me, it's not hard at all.' Does she not feel she has to make an effort for the camera, though? 'Oh my God, no. That's not me. I'd rather spend my time doing something else than putting on make-up and doing my hair.' It all sounds jolly good fun, but the reality is that it's a scary time for historic houses; an effective 20 per cent rate of inheritance tax (IHT) for both farmland and family-owned businesses is going to be disastrous for many, the Earl explains. 'Some will be able to apply for conditional exemption but many will not.' Recent figures from Historic Houses suggest a third of members will have to sell chattels in order to pay IHT liabilities, but this won't always cover the bill. 'It's going to mean that many more are sold. I can tell you that when they get into public hands, their stories are less interesting. They're much more expensive to run. We run this at a fraction of the cost of a National Trust property. We are the right people to be in place,' he says. The Earl and Countess are aware, though, that they cannot focus purely on digital revenue, not least because the next generation might be camera-shy. Yet without the head of steam created by YouTube, they admit the estate would be struggling, largely because Mapperton is an hour and a half from any major city or town. 'We just don't have the population density to get people to come. We've recognised that problem and removed it by saying you don't have to come in person.' Some 62 per cent of their audience are American – as are 99 per cent of their donors. When the Montagus were invited to speak at a conservation society in Alabama last year, they were treated like royalty by fans. 'They all wanted to have their photograph taken with us,' he says. 'We were very impressed by the Royal family at that point. If we had to do that every day, we'd be exhausted. 'This is what historic houses are about – connection,' he continues. 'We're all looking for connection in our lives. It's important that these estates are shared and understood and relevant – that's how they will survive.'
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As Cocker writes in his book Good Pop, Bad Pop, his first jumble-sale buy, a garish 70s shirt, was 'the real beginning of the Pulp aesthetic'. Its pomp can be seen in videos such as for 1993's Babies – with Cocker topless in a flared suit, Mackay in another garish print and Doyle in mod-ish stripes. The influence of Pulp's look in the 90s was partly about the sugar high of its eclectic, graphic take on nostalgia but also its accessibility. '[Other bands] had a secondhand look, but Pulp made it a little bit more colourful, not quite kitsch, but on the edge of kitsch,' says Miranda Sawyer, the author of the Britpop history Uncommon People. Doyle says: 'They obviously looked stylish but you did think, 'OK I can get that stuff'. We were skint for a lot of the first 10 years being in Pulp. I used to find some amazing things [in charity shops].' Three decades later, and secondhand shopping once again dominates the way young people dress. 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'[Cocker] is heavily influenced by 70s fashion … but he's not doing 70s cosplay. When I see pictures of him, and what he wears, it just looks like him,' he says. While Doyle bristles at being classed as a Britpop band – 'we don't associate with [it] because of the union jack,' she says – they will inevitably be compared with Oasis, with both bands touring this summer. Style-wise, Bevan says Pulp come out on top. 'I like the Oasis look but [they were originally about a] counter-culture fashion moment. Now it feels like they're meant to look like they're not trying hard in a fashion way but in reality they are trying really hard to look cool. Pulp all have their own personal sense of style that goes way beyond throwing on a Stone Island windbreaker and a pair of jeans.' Sign up to Fashion Statement Style, with substance: what's really trending this week, a roundup of the best fashion journalism and your wardrobe dilemmas solved after newsletter promotion The fact that success eluded Pulp for a decade helped. 'Me and Jarvis were in our 30s by the time we got big, we'd had a long life of knowing what we liked to wear,' says Doyle. While other bands might have had stylists as standard, this was avoided in favour of wearing their own clothes, a principle that remains today. 'I still have a very strong sense of what I like and what I really don't like,' says Doyle. 'I make sure I wear something as bright as possible. I've got a new [outfit] that's white, there are some sequins on it, and there are some tassels. It's good with tassels, because when you move, it comes with you.' She says clothes were even part of what helped form Pulp in the first place. 'We all grew up in Sheffield, and if you dressed a bit strangely, you stood out. So we'd all congregate at the same venues,' she says, adding insight that sounds like a lost lyric from revenge of the nerds anthem, Mis-Shapes: 'There'd be townies and weirdos, squares and students.' Perhaps the enduring appeal of Pulp's style is once again about the triumph of Mis-Shapes, with its lyrics of 'misshapes, mistakes, misfits', and how expressing your personality through the lucky dip of secondhand clothing is a win. 'Jarvis understands his appeal,' says Sawyer. 'He's accentuating all the things that people have picked on him for. He's saying, 'I'm a tall weed or whatever you wanted to call me. This is who I am and, actually, I look great'.'
