It's not giving anything away to say that "Occupation" ends pretty much as it begins, with violence, blood, fear and death.

How could it be otherwise?

This BBC production tells a story of a war that's gone on way too long - don't they all? - and every day continues to consume lives in more ways than one. Produced by the British and focused on three of their soldiers who return to Iraq by choice after completing their required service, it will no doubt look familiar to any service members who've been there, whether British, American, Italian or of any other Coalition nation.

At four hours in length, the film does test one's patience, but it's worth sticking with. I'd suggest you watch the first couple of hours as you DVR it, then catch the rest later. ("Occupation" airs at 8 p.m.-midnight on Sunday, Oct. 18 on BBC America.)

Written by Peter Bowker and directed by Nick Murphy, the story begins in Basra (filmed in Morocco, actually), with a squad on patrol. They extricate themselves from a mob of children clamoring for candy, enter a home that looks suspicious, and all too quickly find themselves in a firefight in close quarters.

A small girl is seriously wounded and so is the life of Sgt. Mike Swift. Played with worried intensity by the magnetic James Nesbitt (familiar to watchers of Brit TV for the comedy "Cold Feet" and the cop drama "Murphy's Law"), Swift arranges to bring the child back to Britain for treatment. They're also accompanied by an Iraqi woman doctor, Aliya (Lubna Azabal), and thereby begins the tale.

Murphy already feels an alien in his own home, emotionally and psychologically separated from his wife and teenage children. But he and Aliya share the bond of their war experiences and are inevitably drawn to each other. When she returns to Iraq, he will need to do the same.

Two of his army buddies, meanwhile, are also making U-turns back to Basra. Feisty Corp. Danny Peterson (Stephen Graham) meets up with Erik Lester, a black American GI (Nonso Anozie, a big, imposing hulk of charisma, a presence the camera can't resist), whose ambition it is to return to Iraq to set up an independent security company. There is big money to made there, they believe. Not that they will be mercenaries, understand. They prefer the term "risk management operatives."

Lance Corp. Lee Hibbs (Warren Brown) is the idealist of the bunch. His life has found some purpose in Basra, and it's only by returning that he can find it again. Back in England, he's a night club bouncer.

They make their decisions only after long, often angry and anguished conversations and, in one case, after a serious consideration of suicide. At this juncture, a warning: Their accents may be difficult for American ears to decipher, especially because no two are quite the same. Nesbitt is Irish, Graham from Liverpool, Brown a cockney. Just when you think you've tuned to the speech of one, another comes barging in.

Still, the messages come through loud and clear, delivered by men only voicing their own confusion and futility, men who speak of “finishing the job” but have no idea what the “the job” is. Moments of clarity, come rarely, but they're memorable, as when one of them declares: “There is no right in this country, there's just wrong and wronger.”

In the end, only Peterson really seems to know what he’s doing and why he’s doing it – for the money.

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“El Turbot’s Flying Circus”

No, that’s not right, is it? It’s just completely wrong!

How about “Norman Python’s Flying Circus”? That won’t do, either.

“Bob Python’s Flying Circus”? That’s even worse.

Well, then, how about “Monty Python’s Flying Circus”?

Now we’ve got it!

And in a new documentary series on IFC, celebrating the 40th anniversary of the debut of Britain’s sublimely subversive TV comedy troupe, we see the original, handwritten list of names they considered giving themselves.

Weighed down with the ponderous title “Monty Python: Almost the Truth (The Lawyer’s Cut),” the six-part series is surprisingly and disappointingly conventional in structure, consisting largely of talking-head interviews with John Cleese, Eric Idle and their mates, intercut with clips from shows that influenced them early on – “The Goon Show,” “Beyond the Fringe” – and, later, from Python’s own sketches. Yes, you'll get to see the Spam bit, and the housewives’ re-enactment of Pearl Harbor.

“Almost the Truth” airs at 9 p.m. nightly on IFC from Oct. 18 to Oct. 23, followed each night by their films and episodes of Season One of their original, utterly absurd series.