The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulation. In the preview, robed followers zip around on pigs, wielding machine guns, before the screen cuts to massive, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the cut, according to Joe Dietsch—CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games—was the infamous snake gun. "One of the team members’ kids suggested a snake‑shooting weapon," Dietsch recalls.
"We had a modular gun system, so in about thirty minutes I built a prototype that fired snakes. The kid was ecstatic, and the weapon stayed in the final build." That anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or teammates in co‑op mode—to join a 1970s‑style cult. It also illustrates Wolf Haus’s tech‑first philosophy, which has allowed a small group to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a much larger studio.
"We set out to be disruptors," says Michael Abbott, the studio’s COO. "We told everyone we could deliver a AAA‑level experience with just twelve people. Most people laughed, thinking it was impossible." The team’s confidence stems from a history of achieving big results on modest budgets.
"Our background is indie film," Abbott notes. "We’re accustomed to punching well above our weight." After 80 pitch meetings, Wolf Haus finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving the studio the financial runway it needed.
The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of Mel Gibson, who now co‑foundes Wolf Haus. Together they 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 founded by Chris Roberts before his Star Citizen venture. Later, Abbott produced titles such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us began as a side project for Dietsch while he was tinkering with Unreal Engine. "Unreal is free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt there was a huge barrier to creating my own," he explains.
He taught himself through YouTube tutorials, built a few small prototypes, and eventually returned to a concept that fascinated him: a doomsday cult simulator that merged survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, expecting to hit a technical wall quickly. When he showed it to Abbott, the latter recognized its potential and passed it to Dooma, the studio’s narrative director and CFO, Dooma Wendschuh. Wendschuh’s résumé reads like a Hollywood résumé turned gaming résumé: early work as a producer and screenwriter, writing credits on Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins, followed by a stint founding tech companies, including the cannabis formulation firm Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million.
After selling his cannabis business, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire. But a call from his old Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, changed that plan. "He told me a friend had made a video game.
I watched the demo and it blew my mind, so I came out of retirement," Wendschuh says. He then brought in Reid Schneider, former VP at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic, as a strategic advisor, and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer.
With the core team in place, the next hurdle was funding—a difficult task during the industry downturn of 2023‑24. After initial outreach, Wolf Haus signed with CAA in Los Angeles, which helped secure a seed round from Lifelike Capital and Krafton.
"Having CAA, which also represents titles like 007: First Light, added credibility," notes Wendschuh. "Our agent Derek Douglas had represented me for a dozen years and previously ran the video‑game department at William Morris." Despite the high‑profile backers, the studio remains lean: only 13 full‑time staff. "We entered the project knowing exactly what we wanted to build, and we wanted every team member to have a voice and a hand in the creative process," says Dietsch. To make a sprawling open‑world game feasible with such a small crew, the studio invested heavily in internal tooling from day one.
"Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch explains. "We spent the first year building the tools that let us iterate quickly and keep the project from collapsing under its own weight." The equity funding model gave Wolf Haus the breathing room to perfect those tools.
"Krafton and Lifelike’s investment funded the entire development," Wendschuh clarifies. "We’re now adding a modest amount of project finance for marketing, but the core game was built entirely with their equity." When asked about generative AI, the team is unequivocal: they do not rely on it for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential. Using AI to generate assets would defeat the purpose of why we love making games," Dietsch says.
Wendschuh adds that the studio only uses AI for administrative tasks like calendar management and email drafting, not for art, design, or writing. Interestingly, Krafton, which has branded itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline. This mirrors the stance of Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio that publicly denied using AI for its projects.
"Our investors wanted assurance we weren’t cutting corners with AI," Wendschuh notes. The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s world and audio.
The six‑kilometre‑square map was built by hand, and all 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human actors—a point the team emphasizes as a hallmark of quality, even for an indie‑scale title. Dietsch reflects on the differences between film and game development. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring countless approvals and big‑name talent to secure a green light.
In games, an idea can be prototyped within hours, allowing immediate iteration. "You can have a concept in the morning, drop it into the engine, and see it live that same day," he says. Wendschuh agrees, noting that film production is front‑loaded with high‑intensity set work and heavy reliance on star power, whereas games face fewer gatekeepers. "You don’t need an A‑list actor or director to make a successful game," he argues.
Both mediums, however, share a core creative impulse: storytelling and immersive experience. "When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games—it was a coin toss," Dietsch laughs.
"I learned to program on a TI‑83, so both have always been part of me. Ultimately, whether you’re crafting a film or a game, you’re trying to give someone an experience, tell a story, and engage them.
That doesn’t change between the two mediums."