The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulator. In the clip, robed followers charge on pig‑mounted platforms, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with a nightmarish vision of Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the edit, according to Wolf Haus Games’ CEO and creative director Joe Dietsch, was the now‑infamous "snake gun." "One of the developers’ kids asked, ‘What would a snake‑shooting gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool that lets us spin up a weapon in minutes, so I built a snake‑gun in about half an hour.
The kid went wild, and we kept it in the final build," Dietsch recalls. This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult empire.
What makes the project even more remarkable is the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a small team to punch well above its weight. "We set out to be disruptors," says Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer.
"Everyone told us a twelve‑person crew couldn’t deliver a high‑fidelity, large‑scale title. We proved them wrong." The team’s confidence stems from a background in low‑budget, high‑impact indie filmmaking. "We grew up on indie film sets, learning to stretch every dollar," Abbott explains. After 80 pitches, the studio finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving them the runway to finish the game.
Wolf Haus’s founders are steeped in Hollywood history. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of Mel Gibson, and the two later co‑wrote and co‑directed the indie features Happy Hunting and Manifest West. Abbott is the son of veteran makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, the production company originally founded by Chris Roberts before his shift to Star Citizen.
Abbott later produced titles such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx. The seed of Join Us was planted when Dietsch began tinkering with Unreal Engine, attracted by its free download model.
"I’d loved games forever, but the barrier to actually creating one felt huge. I started watching YouTube tutorials and experimenting," he says.
Without prior development experience, he managed to ship a few small prototypes before committing to a full‑blown cult simulator—a concept that merged his love of survival mechanics, grindhouse cinema, and the eerie allure of doomsday sects. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, assuming he would eventually hit a technical wall.
When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter recognized its potential and introduced it to Dooma, a production partner. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s CFO and narrative director, arrived from a career that straddles film and games. He began as a producer and screenwriter before founding Sekretagent Productions, which supplied narrative work for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins.
In the 2010s he launched several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation firm Ebbu, later sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million). After the sale, he bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire. That retirement was short‑lived. "Out of the blue, my old roommate Michael Abbott called and said, ‘A buddy of mine has made a video game.’ I watched Joe’s demo and it blew my mind, so I came out of retirement," Wendschuh recounts.
He brought the project to Reid Schneider, former VP at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic, who joined as a strategic advisor and recruited Ubisoft Montreal veteran Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand as chief technology officer. With the core leadership in place, the next hurdle was financing—a daunting task during the industry downturn of 2023‑2024. The team began pitching in summer 2023, initially receiving polite interest but few commitments.
After signing with CAA in Los Angeles and refining their pitch, they finally closed a seed round with Krafton and Lifelike Capital in 2024. Abbott notes that CAA’s representation, which also covers titles like 007: First Light, opened doors that might otherwise have remained shut. "Our agent Derek Douglas had represented me for over a decade and had deep ties in the video‑game side of William Morris," Wendschuh adds. Despite the high‑profile backers, Join Us remains a product of a lean operation—13 full‑time staff members.
"From day one we knew the scope of what we wanted to achieve and deliberately kept the team small so every voice mattered," says Dietsch. This philosophy drove an early, intensive focus on tool development. "If a system can’t be scaled and debugged by a single person, it will become a bottleneck. We invested heavily in a reusable toolkit that lets us expand features across an open world without the project collapsing under its own weight," he explains.
The funding structure gave the studio the breathing room to perfect these tools. Krafton and Lifelike’s equity stakes meant the game could be self‑funded, with only a modest amount of project finance earmarked for marketing.
"Our investors want the studio to increase its enterprise value, so they encourage us to build robust tools even if it slows short‑term development. That trade‑off lets a tiny team deliver a AAA‑level experience," Wendschuh says.
When asked about generative AI, the team’s response is unequivocal: none of the creative work relies on it. "We believe a human touch is essential. Using AI to generate assets would defeat the purpose of why we love making games," Dietsch states. Wendschuh adds that while they may use AI for mundane tasks like calendar management, it never touches the artistic side of development.
Krafton, which recently branded itself as an "AI‑first" company, actually required assurance that Wolf Haus would not employ generative AI for core creative processes. This mirrors a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio that publicly distanced itself from the parent’s AI pivot. The studio’s commitment to handcrafted content is evident in the six‑kilometre‑square map, which was built entirely by hand, and the 15,000 voice lines recorded by human actors.
"Even as a small indie, we felt it was crucial to keep the experience authentic and human‑driven," Dietsch emphasizes. Dietsch also reflects on the contrast between film and game creation. In film, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring countless approvals and the involvement of high‑profile talent.
In games, an inspiration can be prototyped within hours, allowing immediate iteration. "You can have an idea at breakfast and see it in the engine by lunch.
That immediacy is exhilarating," he says. Wendschuh notes that while movies are heavily front‑loaded—requiring star power and studio green‑lights—games have far fewer gatekeepers. "Anyone can rent a camera and shoot a backyard movie, but without distribution or star names it rarely reaches an audience.
A small team can release a successful game without A‑list actors or directors," he observes. Both founders agree that the core creative impulse is the same across mediums: to craft an experience, tell a story, and engage an audience. "When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games. It came down to a coin toss and a Christmas camera.
I learned programming on a TI‑83, so the passion has always been there. Whether it’s film or interactive media, the goal is the same—create a compelling narrative and immerse the player or viewer," Dietsch concludes.