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 zip around on pigs, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with an image of massive, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.
One detail that didn’t make the final edit was the infamous "snake gun," a weapon that was born from a spontaneous idea. Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, explains that a team member’s son asked, “What would a snake‑shooting gun look like?” Using an in‑house tool that lets the team prototype weapons in minutes, Dietsch whipped up a functional snake gun in roughly thirty minutes. The result was a hit with the kid, and the quirky weapon earned a permanent spot in the game.
That anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us. The title is an open‑world sandbox survival experience where players can recruit AI followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult. The game’s design philosophy leans heavily on technology, allowing a small team to deliver a high‑fidelity experience that would normally require a much larger staff. Michael Abbott, the studio’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors.
We told everyone we could build a AAA‑quality game with just twelve people, and most people thought we were crazy." Wolf Haus’s founders are steeped in Hollywood tradition. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University, where he met Louie Gibson—son of actor‑director Mel Gibson—who later co‑founded the studio. Together they co‑wrote and co‑directed indie features such as Happy Hunting and Manifest West.
Abbott hails from a family of film artisans; his father, Larry Abbott, is a veteran makeup artist, and Michael helped launch Ascendant Pictures, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before Roberts turned his attention to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced movies like Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx, giving the team a solid background in delivering big‑budget projects on lean budgets.
The genesis of Join Us can be traced back to Dietsch’s early experiments with Unreal Engine. "Unreal was free to download, and I was fascinated by the low barrier to entry for creating games," he recalls. After teaching himself through YouTube tutorials, he built a few modest prototypes before committing to a larger vision: a doomsday cult simulator that fused survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, ran into technical limits, and showed the rough build to Abbott, who then introduced it to Dooma, the studio’s early investor.
Dooma Wendschuh, the studio’s chief financial officer and narrative director, entered the picture after a varied career that spanned film production, screenwriting, and video‑game writing. He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative services 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. 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.
Wendschuh was impressed by the Join Us demo and helped secure strategic advice from former Warner Bros. Games VP Reid Schneider, who in turn recruited Ubisoft veteran Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand as chief technology officer. Funding the project proved to be a marathon. The team began pitching in the summer of 2023, a period marked by a broader industry downturn.
Initial interest was strong, but converting that interest into capital required persistence. After engaging Creative Artists Agency (CAA) and refining their pitch throughout 2024, Wolf Haus closed a seed round with Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both taking equity stakes. The partnership with CAA—who also represent titles like 007: First Light—provided credibility, while seasoned advisors such as Schneider and Chartrand added industry heft.
What truly sets Join Us apart is the way it’s being built. With only 13 full‑time staff members, the studio has emphasized a collaborative culture where every voice matters. Early in development, the team invested heavily in custom tooling.
"If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch says. By creating robust pipelines and reusable tools, the studio ensured that the open‑world map could expand without collapsing under its own weight.
This tooling‑first approach also aligns with the investors’ philosophy: Krafton and Lifelike prefer studios that build their own solutions rather than rely on external shortcuts. One question that frequently arises when small teams claim to produce AAA‑level content is whether they rely on generative AI. Wolf Haus’s answer is a firm no.
"We don’t use generative AI for any creative work," Dietsch states. The studio believes that a human touch is essential to the artistic process. Wendschuh adds that the only AI tools they employ are mundane productivity aids—calendar scheduling and email drafting. Interestingly, Krafton, which has branded itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline as a condition of their investment.
The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s world and audio. The six‑kilometre‑square island map was built entirely by hand, and the 15,000 voice lines were recorded by real actors, not synthetic voices. Dietsch emphasizes that this level of manual craftsmanship is a point of pride, especially for an indie studio. Comparing game development to film, Dietsch notes the immediacy of the interactive medium.
In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring countless approvals and the involvement of high‑profile talent. By contrast, a game concept can be prototyped in a single morning, inserted into the engine, and instantly visualized.
Wendschuh observes that while film production is front‑loaded with pre‑production hurdles, games benefit from a lower barrier to entry and fewer gatekeepers. "You don’t need an A‑list actor or director to get a game funded; you just need a compelling experience," he explains.
Both mediums, however, share a common creative drive: storytelling and immersion. Dietsch reflects on his childhood ambition to make either movies or games, noting that his early fascination with programming on a TI‑83 calculator set the stage for a career that straddles both worlds. Whether through a cult‑themed sandbox or a low‑budget horror flick, his goal remains the same—to deliver an engaging narrative that resonates with an audience.
In summary, Wolf Haus Games illustrates how a blend of Hollywood heritage, savvy entrepreneurship, and a dedication to building bespoke tools can enable a tiny team to produce an ambitious, high‑quality title without leaning on generative AI. Their journey from a simple Unreal Engine experiment to a fully funded, multi‑million‑dollar project showcases the power of perseverance, strategic partnerships, and a clear creative vision.