There Are No Angels Here

LOS ANGLES. Once a landscape of deserts, it has been transformed into a vast playground. Freeways criss-crossing thew city, fast-food shops specializing in everything from hot tamales to take-out sushi, and mini-shopping malls on every block make their mark on the plastic expanse of wide streets and sun-bronzed people. And when the sun descends over the pacific, the wild ones know exactly where to go. They hip-hop downtown--where pleasures-seekers and licentious groovers explode recklessly to the primal beats of the night. Tonight the scene is the old Park Plaza Hotel, where a French restauranteur is throwing his version of an all-or-nothing revelry of life.