When the Prince Charles Cinema in London wants to make a statement, it does so boldly, with large black letters on its marquee. During a scorching summer, it provoked laughter with: SOD THE SUNSHINE, COME SIT IN THE DARK. When its doors were boarded up during the early days of the Covid lockdown, it rallied spirits with: WE’LL BE BACK. And after the coronation of King Charles, it firmly asserted: NO, WE ARE NOT CHANGING OUR NAME.
The cinema’s eclectic selection—David Lynch classics, all-night Japanese horror marathons, sing-alongs of The Sound of Music, and screenings of The Room, often with live Q&As from its director Tommy Wiseau—proves its unique place in Leicester Square. However, facing an uncertain future due to tough negotiations with its new landlord, the marquee displayed a stark message: SAVE THE PCC.
This desperate plea appeared on January 28, the same day the cinema launched a petition against Zedwell LSQ, a subsidiary of Criterion Capital, one of the major property players in Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus. The petition claimed that Zedwell was using its substantial financial might to intimidate the cinema, demanding unsustainable terms: increased rent, a shorter lease, and a break clause allowing them to evict the cinema with just six months’ notice—an alarming threat to a venue that has stood since the 1960s.
Within just a day, the petition amassed over 100,000 signatures, igniting widespread media interest. GQ magazine featured comments from filmmakers like Paul Mescal, Robert Eggers, and Christopher Nolan, the latter stating: “Film culture in Great Britain is unthinkable without the Prince Charles.” Danny Boyle added: “If this ‘ninth wonder of the world’ ever closes its doors, life will continue, but London will die a little.”
As the situation escalated, attention turned to the man behind Criterion Capital: Asif Aziz, a wealthy property mogul often dubbed “Mr. West End.” His reputation has taken hits over the years, highlighted by the Times calling him “Britain’s meanest landlord” for his legal actions against struggling tenants during the pandemic. Concurrently, Criterion was embroiled in controversy over plans to purchase the Central YMCA, a community gym facing a similar fate.
For many, the plight of the Prince Charles Cinema and the YMCA represents a broader struggle against the relentless threat of closure faced by cultural and community venues in London, revealing the overpowering influence of developers like Aziz. This age-old tale isn’t new but reflects a common battle against the erosion of cultural diversity in urban spaces. As writer Kate Mossman pointed out: “No city in the UK has developers with the same blatant disregard for its own culture as London.”
Throughout all this, Aziz remained publicly silent—until now. I aimed to uncover the vision of Mr. West End for the future of London. Was he a ruthless businessman or merely a scapegoat for deeper societal issues? “Asif is very personable,” says John Walker, a former planning director for Westminster council, “but he is often misunderstood.”
The Beginning of a Negotiation
In January 2023, Ben Freedman, managing director of the Prince Charles, met Aziz for the first time. Zedwell had just acquired the freehold of the cinema, and Aziz invited Freedman to discuss plans over tea. Their meeting at Criterion’s offices was unexpectedly amicable. Freedman was eager to hear Aziz’s intentions for the cinema.
Aziz initially seemed open to dialogue but later revealed he needed a specific rent figure from Freedman, which led to mounting frustration. Freedman presented an offer, only for it to be rejected multiple times until the final demand nearly doubled the cinema’s current rent. Although Freedman sought independent surveyors’ assessments to support his case, Aziz remained insistent on his numbers.
In October 2023, Freedman learned that Criterion intended to convert office space above the cinema into a hotel, increasing the stakes of a sensitive negotiation. Subsequently, he met with Aziz’s son, who made bizarre suggestions about giving up portions of the cinema to facilitate access for the hotel—a plan that made little sense.
By September 2024, with a year left on their lease, Freedman put forth a proposal for a 15-year lease, expecting reasonable negotiations—however, Criterion countered with a higher rental demand and a break clause enabling them to terminate at short notice.
Realizing the seriousness of the situation, Freedman decided to go public, emphasizing that the Prince Charles was far more than just any cinema. A local councillor helped arrange another meeting with Aziz. This time, the mood was tense, with Aziz expressing disappointment over Freedman’s public actions. Yet, they made some progress, with Aziz informally agreeing to drop the break clause while still insisting on a rent increase—despite falling market rates.
Freedman remains in limbo, awaiting a response from Criterion, while the chances of a legal battle loom, where a judge will ultimately decide on a fair lease.
A City at the Mercy of Landlords
London has long been dominated by powerful landlords, many of whom prefer to remain under the radar. The city’s prime real estate is largely divided among a few “Great Estates,” held since Norman times. “Almost a thousand acres of central London remains with the aristocracy, church commissioners, and the crown estate,” notes Guy Shrubsole in his book Who Owns England?
While other firms still operate under independent ownership, Criterion has gained attention in the West End landscape, owning numerous prominent buildings across Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus. The concentration of property ownership has drastically reshaped this area, pushing out unique independent businesses that have defined London’s charm for decades.
Challenges persist for the Prince Charles Cinema, as Freedman stresses the struggle against complacent commercialism in the face of potentially losing cultural venues that hold emotional significance for many Londoners.
In response to the ongoing conflict, Criterion has issued statements emphasizing its community impact and commitment to urban vitality. Yet, as campaigns continue to save venues like the YMCA, frustrations linger about the developer’s true intentions.
A Closer Look at Asif Aziz
While Asif Aziz occupies a central role, he is not solely to blame for the changes occurring in the area. His journey mirrors the story of Dick Whittington, having arrived in London at a young age and gradually accumulating wealth through real estate, culminating in a substantial portfolio with properties like the Trocadero and the Criterion Building.
Despite enduring criticism over his business practices and property management, Aziz presents himself as a benefactor of the community, investing through the Aziz Foundation to support local initiatives. However, the dual nature of his actions leads to skepticism among community members.
During our few encounters, Aziz appeared confident, discussing the cinema’s situation while deflecting questions about broader community concerns. He firmly believes in his business decisions, asserting that acquiring properties like the Prince Charles Cinema adds value to his ventures.
In recent weeks, the cinema has persevered, screening beloved films, all while navigating diplomatic negotiations with Criterion. Freedman’s commitment to keeping the cinema open speaks to a collective desire from the community to preserve spaces that mean so much to them.
As the standoff between Aziz and Freedman continues, London’s essence remains in the balance, battling against the pressures of commercialism and gentrification that threaten its character. In a fight that embodies David and Goliath, Freedman channels the spirit of resilience, refusing to back down without a fight for London’s cultural heart.
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