You may remember the Join Us trailer that debuted during the Xbox Showcase in June. The clip introduced a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator where robed followers zip around on pigs, unleash machine‑gun fire, and the finale hints at Cthulhu‑like tentacles looming in the distance.
What didn’t make the cut was the infamous snake gun, a weapon that Joe Dietsch—CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games—credits to a spontaneous idea from a team member’s child. "His son asked, ‘What if there’s a snake gun?’ We had a modular weapon system, so within half an hour I rigged up a gun that actually fires snakes.
It blew his mind, and it stayed in the final build," Dietsch recalls. That anecdote perfectly captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay Join Us aims to deliver. The title is an open‑world sandbox survival experience that lets players recruit followers—or teammates in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult. It also showcases the studio’s tech‑first philosophy, which has allowed a relatively tiny crew to produce a high‑fidelity, large‑scale game.
Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed it up: "We wanted to be disruptors. We told everyone, ‘We don’t need a hundred developers; twelve can do the job.’ Most people laughed, thinking it was impossible." The team’s confidence stems from a history of achieving big results on modest budgets.
"We come from indie film backgrounds, so punching above our weight is second nature," Abbott says. After 80 pitch meetings, Wolf Haus finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which now own stakes in the studio. The founders’ Hollywood connections run deep.
Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson—son of Mel Gibson—who co‑founded Wolf Haus and 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 Chris Roberts founded before moving on to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx.
Join Us originated when Dietsch began tinkering in Unreal Engine. "Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games, but the barrier to actually create something felt huge. I started learning from YouTube tutorials and built a few tiny prototypes," he explains.
Although he had no formal game‑dev experience, he quickly moved from those bite‑size experiments to a larger vision: a doomsday cult simulator that fused survival mechanics with grindhouse‑movie aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, showed it to Abbott, and the duo took it to Dooma, a partner studio. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s CFO and narrative director, began his career as a film producer and screenwriter before transitioning to games in the early 2000s.
He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative work for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later, he launched several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis‑formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million).
After the sale, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire. Yet a call from his old Hollywood‑hill roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back: "I saw the prototype Joe had built and it blew my mind, so I came out of retirement to help." Through Wendschuh’s network, Wolf Haus recruited Reid Schneider—formerly a vice president at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet—as a strategic advisor.
Schneider also brought in Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer. With a core team forming, the next hurdle was financing, which proved difficult amid an industry downturn in the summer of 2023.
"People liked what we were building, but the market was tight," Dietsch admits. The studio enlisted CAA (Creative Artists Agency) as representation, re‑pitched in 2024, and eventually closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh notes that CAA’s clout—representing titles like 007: First Light—combined with veteran advisors helped convince investors. Despite the high ambitions, Join Us is being crafted by just 13 full‑time staff.
Dietsch emphasizes the intentionality behind the small size: "We wanted everyone to have a voice, to touch the creative process, and to feel like the game truly belongs to this specific group." To make such a scope feasible, Wolf Haus invested heavily in internal tooling from day one. "Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch says. The studio built a robust toolkit that lets one developer extend features across an open‑world map without the project collapsing under its own weight.
This tooling philosophy also aligns with their equity‑funded model: Krafton and Lifelike’s capital allowed the team to develop these tools without external pressure, essentially self‑funding the game. "Our investors care about enterprise value, so they support us in building extensive tools—even if it slows immediate progress, it enables us to achieve a massive vision with a tiny crew," Wendschuh explains. When asked about generative AI, the team draws a clear line. "We don’t use any generative AI for creative work.
The human touch is essential to us," Dietsch asserts. Wendschuh adds that the only AI they employ handles mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting. Interestingly, Krafton—positioned as an "AI‑first" company—specifically required that Wolf Haus avoid AI‑generated content, mirroring a similar stance taken by Krafton‑owned Neon Giant.
The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s world and audio. The six‑kilometer‑square map is entirely hand‑built, and the 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human actors, not synthetic voices. "Even as a small indie, preserving that human element was non‑negotiable," says Dietsch. Dietsch also reflects on the contrast between film and game development.
In film, an idea can sit on paper for years before it finally sees a set, requiring countless approvals and star power to get green‑lit. In games, an idea can be prototyped in hours, placed into the engine, and instantly tested. "That immediacy is exhilarating," he says. Wendschuh notes that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with intense, short‑term bursts of activity and a reliance on high‑profile talent to secure financing.
While anyone can shoot a backyard movie, breaking through without marquee names is rare. By contrast, the video‑game market has fewer gatekeepers, making it easier for a small, talented team to achieve success without A‑list actors or directors. Both founders agree that storytelling is the core driver, regardless of medium.
"When I was six, I wanted to make movies or games—it came down to a coin toss and a Christmas camera. I learned programming on a TI‑83, so creating interactive experiences has always been my passion. Whether it’s a film or a game, you’re delivering an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience.
That fundamental goal doesn’t change," Dietsch concludes.