Anyone who knows Fred Durst only as the posturing egotist who rapped lead vocals for Limp Bizkit -- and, let's face it, that's most of us -- will be floored by The Education of Charlie Banks. Not an ounce of that bad boy is present in this sensitive, delicate film about the complex relationship between an intellectual kid and the tempestuous neighborhood bully he fears. It's clear Durst feels a kinship toward Mick Leary (Jason Ritter), the underprivileged rebel whose inability to show mercy has nearly killed several people. But Durst the bombastic performer has never even met Durst the unassuming director, who shows no interest in glamorizing the exploits of his antihero. The Education of Charlie Banks is consistently understated, its production design fondly muted to evoke an easy nostalgia, its soundtrack (supervised by Chris Douridas) a wondrous pastiche of music from the late '70s, its score (by John Swihart) alternating between playful, contemplative, and foreboding. Not only does Durst eschew flashiness, he seems to disdain the very idea of using technique to manipulate us. Peter Elkoff's story draws us in easily, soon shifting to the college years of Charlie Banks (Jesse Eisenberg), where the search continues for a compromise between his moral compass and his loyalty to the psychopath who re-enters his world through a mutual friend. Eisenberg is strong, but not substantially different from his previous work. It's Ritter who really commands our attention. Ritter's performance leaves us consumed with nervous fears of impending disaster, but it's the furthest thing from cartoonish, allowing us to eventually sympathize with Mick, as does Charlie. But neither does Durst's film let us off the hook, harboring plenty of surprises about how these relationships will play out. The Education of Charlie Banks truly functions as our education on the potential of its director.