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 pigs, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with a nightmarish image of massive, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.
What didn’t make the edit, according to Wolf Haus Games’ CEO and creative director Joe Dietsch, was the infamous snake gun. "One of the developer’s kids came up with the idea of a snake‑shooter," Dietsch recounts. "He asked, ‘Can there be a snake gun?’ Because we built a modular weapon system, I could prototype it in about half an hour. The result was a gun that launches snakes, and the kid was blown away.
It’s still in the game today." That anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us—a sprawling open‑world sandbox where players can recruit AI followers or real‑life friends into a 1970s‑style cult. The game’s design philosophy also highlights the studio’s tech‑first mindset, which has allowed a tiny crew to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a much larger staff.
As Wolf Haus COO Michael Abbott explains, the team set out to be "disruptors." "We kept saying, ‘We don’t need a hundred developers; twelve can do it.’" That claim was met with skepticism, but the founders drew confidence from their indie‑film backgrounds, where they were accustomed to achieving cinematic ambition on shoestring budgets. After a grueling 80‑pitch marathon, the studio finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving Wolf Haus the financial runway it needed.
The leadership’s 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. Michael Abbott is the son of veteran makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before his Star Citizen days.
Abbott later produced titles such as Fight for ‘84, starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us originated from Dietsch’s experimentation with Unreal Engine. "The engine was free to download, and I’d always loved games, but the barrier to creating something felt huge," he says.
He taught himself the basics through YouTube tutorials, built a few modest prototypes, and eventually settled on a doomsday‑cult concept that merged his love of survival gameplay with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, expecting it would hit technical limits quickly. When he showed it to Abbott, the latter took it to Dooma, a production partner that helped refine the vision.
Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, had a career that spanned film production, screenwriting, and video‑game narrative work, contributing writing to titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. He also founded several tech startups, including the cannabis‑formulation firm Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million.
After a brief retirement—living on a remote Canadian island and planning to enjoy the beach and his dog—Wendschuh was pulled back into the industry when a call from his old Hollywood‑Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, alerted him to a prototype that “blew his mind.” He introduced the game to Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros Games VP now heading Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet. Schneider joined as a strategic advisor and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, an ex‑Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer.
With a core team forming, the next hurdle was funding—an especially tough task during the industry downturn of 2023‑24. The studio initially pitched the concept in summer 2023, receiving enthusiastic but cautious responses.
After enlisting Creative Artists Agency (CAA) as representation, they returned to the market in 2024, eventually closing a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh believes the CAA connection, which also represents titles like 007: First Light, and the presence of seasoned veterans such as Schneider and Chartrand were instrumental. "My agent at CAA, Derek Douglas, also represented me during my twelve‑year game‑development career and headed the video‑game department at William Morris. That pedigree opened doors," he notes.
Despite the high‑profile backing, the studio remains lean—just 13 full‑time staff members. Dietsch emphasizes that the small size is intentional: it fosters a collaborative atmosphere where every voice shapes the creative direction. To make a game of such scope feasible, the team invested heavily in building scalable internal tools early on. "If a system can’t be debugged or expanded by a single developer, it becomes a bottleneck," Dietsch explains.
The first year of development was therefore split between ideating gameplay and constructing the toolset that would sustain an open‑world map without collapsing under its own weight. The funding model also gave the studio breathing room to perfect these tools.
Because Krafton and Lifelike hold equity in Wolf Haus, the capital they provided is treated as self‑funding for the project. The studio has only recently begun modest project‑finance arrangements for marketing, but the core development costs have been covered by the equity partners.
"Equity funding aligns our investors with our desire to build a robust toolchain," says Wendschuh. "Whenever we encounter a problem we don’t know how to solve, we build a custom tool. It may slow us down in the short term, but it enables a tiny team to deliver a game of this magnitude." When asked about the prevalent trend of using generative AI to stretch small teams, both Dietsch and Wendschuh are unequivocal: they do not rely on AI for creative work.
"We value the human touch in games. Hand‑crafting experiences is why we get out of bed each morning," Dietsch says. The studio’s only AI usage is limited to administrative tasks such as calendar management and email drafting.
Even Krafton, which has publicly positioned itself as an "AI‑first" company, insisted that Wolf Haus avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline. The investor’s stance mirrors that of Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio that publicly declared it would not adopt the parent’s AI strategy for its own projects.
The team’s commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game's world and voice work. The six‑kilometre‑square map is hand‑modeled, and over 15,000 lines of dialogue were recorded by real voice actors—an effort that the founders consider essential, even for an indie‑scale title.
Dietsch highlights a key advantage of games over film: immediacy. "In film, you write a script, wait years for production, and then finally see it on set, often after countless approvals. In games, you can prototype an idea this morning, drop it into the engine, and see the result instantly. That speed is exhilarating." Wendschuh adds that filmmaking is heavily front‑loaded, requiring the attachment of high‑profile talent before a studio will green‑light a project.
While anyone can technically shoot a backyard movie, breaking through without star power or distribution is extremely unlikely. By contrast, the video‑game market has fewer gatekeepers; a compelling experience can succeed without A‑list names.
Both founders reflect on how a childhood love of both mediums shaped their careers. "When I was six, I wanted to make either games or movies; a coin toss and a Christmas camera decided my path," Dietsch recalls, noting that he also learned to program on a TI‑83 calculator.
He believes that regardless of format, the core mission is the same: to deliver an engaging story and experience that resonates with an audience. In summary, Wolf Haus’s journey demonstrates how a small, technically proficient team—bolstered by Hollywood connections, strategic investment, and a refusal to lean on generative AI—can produce an ambitious, high‑quality cult simulator.
Their story underscores the power of bespoke tools, hands‑on creativity, and the unique flexibility that the game‑development landscape offers compared to traditional cinema.