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 clip, robed followers charge on pig‑back while blasting foes with machine guns, culminating in a nightmarish vision of colossal, 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" sequence. "One of the team members’ kids asked, ‘What would a snake‑shooting gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool that let us spin up a weapon in under thirty minutes, so I built it on the fly. The kid was thrilled, and the weapon stayed in the final build," Dietsch recalls, smiling.
That anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox where players can amass followers—or invite friends in co‑op—to build a 1970s‑style cult empire. More importantly, it illustrates the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has enabled a high‑fidelity, large‑scale title to emerge from a remarkably small development team.
Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors. We told ourselves, ‘Why do we need a hundred‑person studio when twelve can do the job?’ Everyone else called us crazy, but we proved them wrong." The team’s confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where small crews routinely punch far above their budgetary weight. "We come from indie film circles, so we’re used to doing massive things with minimal resources," Abbott explains. After a marathon of 80 pitches, Wolf Haus finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving the studio both capital and strategic partners.
Wolf Haus’s founding trio brings deep Hollywood connections to the table. 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 Star Citizen days. Abbott also produced the Jamie Foxx‑led thriller Fight for ’84.
The genesis of Join Us traces back to Dietsch tinkering with Unreal Engine. "Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt the barrier to creation was huge.
I started learning from YouTube tutorials and built a few tiny prototypes," he says. Those early experiments gave him the confidence to tackle something bigger: a doomsday cult simulator that merged his love of grindhouse cinema, survival mechanics, and the absurdity of cult lore. He built a proof‑of‑concept, assuming it would hit a technical wall quickly.
When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter saw its potential and introduced it to Dooma, a production partner. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, had previously produced and written for films before moving into games in the early 2000s, contributing writing to titles such as Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. He later founded several tech ventures, including the cannabis formulation firm Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million. After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, planning a quiet retirement.
Yet a sudden call from his old Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, changed his plans. "Joe sent me a video of his game, and it blew my mind.
I came out of retirement to help," Wendschuh recalls. He brought in Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros.
Games VP now heading Raccoon Logic, as a strategic advisor, and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, an ex‑Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer. With the core team assembled, the next hurdle was financing—a daunting task in the midst of an industry downturn.
The studio began pitching in summer 2023, initially receiving polite interest but few commitments. After signing with CAA in Los Angeles and refining their pitch throughout 2024, they finally closed a seed round with Krafton and Lifelike Capital. Wendschuh attributes part of that success to CAA’s clout and the presence of seasoned veterans like Schneider and Chartrand. "My agent Derek Douglas, who once led the video‑game department at William Morris, was instrumental," he notes.
Despite the high aspirations, Join Us remains a product of a lean operation—just 13 full‑time staff members. Dietsch emphasizes that the small‑team ethos is intentional: "Everyone has a voice, everyone touches the creative, and the game feels like it was made by a tight‑knit group rather than a faceless corporation." To make such an ambitious open‑world title feasible with limited manpower, Wolf Haus invested heavily in custom tooling from day one.
"Any system we build must be scalable and debuggable by a single person. We spent the first year simultaneously designing gameplay and engineering the tools that would let us expand the world without it collapsing," Dietsch explains. This tool‑first approach also aligns with the equity‑funded model: Krafton and Lifelike’s capital is used to finance development, allowing the studio to self‑fund the project while reserving a small portion of financing for marketing. One recurring industry buzzword is generative AI, which many small studios cite as a shortcut.
Wolf Haus deliberately shuns it. "We believe a game needs a human touch. Using AI to generate core content would defeat why we get up every morning," Dietsch says.
Wendschuh adds that the studio’s AI subscriptions are limited to administrative tasks like calendar management and email drafting—nothing creative. In fact, Krafton, which has branded itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline before investing.
The commitment to handcrafted content is evident: the six‑kilometre‑square map in Join Us is entirely hand‑built, and the game features roughly 15,000 voice lines recorded by human actors. "Even as a tiny indie, we felt it was crucial to keep the artistry human," says Dietsch.
Comparing his film background to game development, Dietsch highlights the immediacy of interactive media. In film, an idea can take years to materialise, navigating studio approvals, casting, and scheduling. In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours: "You can have an idea at breakfast, drop it into the engine, and see it instantly. That rapid feedback loop is exhilarating." Wendschuh observes that movies are front‑loaded with high‑stakes logistics—securing A‑list talent, studio greenlights, and distribution deals—whereas games face fewer gatekeepers.
"Anyone can rent a camera and shoot a backyard movie, but without big names it’s hard to break through. With games, the barrier to entry is lower, and a well‑executed indie can reach a massive audience without Hollywood’s stamp of approval," he notes. Both mediums, however, share a common creative drive: storytelling and evoking emotion.
"When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games. It came down to a coin toss and whether I got a camera for Christmas.
I learned to program on a TI‑83, so I’ve always been straddling both worlds. Whether you’re crafting a film or a game, you’re delivering an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience. That core purpose never changes," Dietsch concludes.