The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, giving viewers a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulation. In the clip, robed followers charge on pig‑back while wielding machine guns, and the sequence culminates with an image of gigantic, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.
What didn’t make the cut was the infamous snake‑gun, a weapon that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was inspired by a child’s off‑hand suggestion. "One of the team members’ kids asked, ‘What would a snake‑gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool that let us spin up a new weapon in about thirty minutes, so I built a gun that fires snakes on the fly. The kid went nuts, and the weapon stayed in the final build," Dietsch recalls. This anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to their 1970s‑style cult.
It also highlights the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a small team to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a much larger staff. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors. We told everyone we could build a AAA‑quality experience with just twelve people, and most people laughed.
But we’ve proven that with the right tools and experience, it’s possible." The team’s background in indie filmmaking taught them to punch far above their weight, a skill they transferred to game development. After 80 pitch meetings, they finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in Wolf Haus. The founders’ Hollywood roots run deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson—son of Mel Gibson—who later co‑founded Wolf Haus and co‑wrote and co‑directed the indie features Happy Hunting and Manifest West.
Abbott is the son of renowned makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before his shift to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. This blend of film and gaming expertise informs the studio’s cinematic approach to game design. Join Us originated from Dietsch tinkering with Unreal Engine.
"Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games, but the barrier to actually creating something felt huge. I started learning from YouTube tutorials and built a few small prototypes," he explains.
Despite having no formal game‑dev background, Dietsch quickly moved from tiny experiments to a full‑blown proof‑of‑concept for a doomsday cult simulator—a concept that merged his love of survival mechanics, grindhouse cinema, and interactive storytelling. He presented the demo to Abbott, who then introduced it to Dooma, the studio’s early‑stage partner. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, 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, Wendschuh launched several tech ventures, including the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million). After a brief retirement on a remote Canadian island, a call from his old Hollywood‑hill roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into the industry. Impressed by Dietsch’s demo, Wendschuh joined the project, bringing on former Warner Bros.
Games VP Reid Schneider as a strategic advisor and recruiting Ubisoft Montreal veteran Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand as chief technology officer. With a core team forming, the next hurdle was financing—an especially tough task during the industry downturn of 2023‑2024.
The studio pitched repeatedly, eventually partnering with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) for representation. Their persistence paid off when Lifelike Capital and Krafton closed a seed round, providing the capital needed to continue development while keeping the team lean at just 13 full‑time staff members.
Wolf Haus’s development philosophy centers on building robust internal tools. "Every system we create must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," says Dietsch.
Early in the project, the team invested heavily in a custom toolkit that allowed them to iterate on gameplay ideas while simultaneously ensuring those ideas could scale across an open‑world map without collapsing under their own weight. This tooling‑first approach not only accelerated current development but also laid the groundwork for future projects. The equity funding model gave Wolf Haus the breathing room to perfect these tools.
"Krafton and Lifelike’s investment is essentially self‑funding the game," explains Wendschuh. "We’re now adding a modest amount of project finance for marketing, but the core development has been covered by our equity partners." This arrangement aligns investor incentives with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the team to keep building bespoke solutions even when they slow short‑term progress. When asked about the role of generative AI, Dietsch is unequivocal: the studio does not use it for any creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential.
Hand‑crafting experiences is why we get up every morning," he says. Wendschuh adds that the only AI tools they employ are mundane productivity aids—calendar scheduling and email drafting—nothing that influences design, art, or narrative.
Interestingly, Krafton, which has publicly branded itself as an “AI‑first” company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑backed studio. The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s massive six‑kilometre‑square map and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors. "Even as a small indie, we felt it was vital to keep everything hand‑made," Dietsch emphasizes. This philosophy reflects a broader industry conversation about AI’s impact on creative jobs, from voice actors to concept artists, a debate Wendschuh says the studio is deliberately staying out of.
Dietsch also notes the immediacy that games provide compared with film. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring scripts, casting, and studio approvals before any footage is shot.
In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped in a single morning, tested in the engine, and iterated upon instantly. This rapid feedback loop fuels the team’s enthusiasm and aligns with their desire to keep the development process fluid and collaborative. Wendschuh points out that while film production is heavily front‑loaded—requiring high‑profile talent to secure financing—games face fewer gatekeepers. "Anyone can rent a camera and shoot a backyard movie, but without big names it’s hard to break through.
A game, however, can reach a global audience without A‑list actors or directors," he explains. This democratization, combined with the team’s Hollywood storytelling instincts, creates a unique blend of cinematic flair and interactive freedom. Reflecting on his childhood, Dietsch recalls a pivotal moment when a coin toss decided whether he’d pursue games or movies.
He learned programming on a TI‑83 calculator and grew up with both a camera and a computer. "Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re delivering an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience. The medium changes, but the core creative impulse stays the same," he concludes.
Join Us therefore stands as a testament to what a small, tightly knit team can achieve when they combine Hollywood storytelling expertise, savvy tech development, and a clear stance against over‑reliance on generative AI. The result is a sprawling, hand‑crafted cult simulator that promises both chaotic fun and a uniquely human touch, all built by a dozen passionate creators who dared to defy industry expectations.