The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator where robed followers ride pig‑mounted platforms, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and eventually confront towering, Cthulhu‑inspired tentacles. One of the most memorable moments that didn’t make the final cut was the inclusion of a snake‑shooting weapon, a quirky feature that originated from an off‑hand comment by a team member’s child. As Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, recounts, “The kid asked, ‘Can there be a snake gun?’ We had a modular gun‑creation tool, so within half an hour I built a weapon that fires serpents. He was thrilled, and the snake gun stayed in the game.” That anecdote encapsulates the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us.

The title is an open‑world sandbox survival experience that lets players recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult. The gameplay is deliberately messy, encouraging absurdist tactics and spontaneous creativity. Yet behind the mayhem lies a disciplined, technology‑first approach that has allowed Wolf Haus to produce a high‑fidelity title with a surprisingly small staff.

Michael Abbott, the studio’s chief operating officer, describes the team’s philosophy as deliberately disruptive. “We told ourselves, ‘We don’t need a hundred‑person development house. Twelve people can do this.’ Everyone else thought we were delusional.” Their confidence stems from a history of achieving big results on modest budgets.

Many of the founders cut their teeth in indie filmmaking, a sector where resourcefulness is a survival skill. Abbott notes, “In indie film we constantly punch above our weight, so we brought that mindset into game development.” After a marathon of 80 pitches, the studio finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in Wolf Haus. The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep.

Dietsch studied film at Chapman University in California alongside Louie Gibson, son of actor‑director 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, a production company founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx, giving him a solid grounding in large‑scale entertainment production. Join Us began as a personal experiment in Unreal Engine.

“I discovered Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt the barrier to creating one was huge,” Dietsch explains. He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, building a few small prototypes before deciding to tackle something more ambitious: a doomsday cult simulator that fused survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. The initial proof‑of‑concept was rough, but it impressed Abbott, who then presented it to Dooma, the studio that would later become a partner. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s chief financial officer and narrative director, entered the video‑game world after a career in film production and screenwriting.

In the early 2000s he founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative services for titles such as 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 (US$330 million). After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire.

However, a call from his old Hollywood‑Hills roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into the industry. "I saw Joe’s demo and it blew my mind, so I came out of retirement to help," he says. Wendschuh recruited Reid Schneider, a former vice‑president at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic (the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet), as a strategic advisor.

Schneider then brought in Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, formerly a programmer at Ubisoft Montreal, to serve as chief technology officer. By mid‑2023 the core team was assembled, but securing capital proved difficult amid an industry downturn.

The studio partnered with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) for representation, re‑pitched in 2024, and eventually closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. The involvement of CAA—who also represent titles like 007: First Light—combined with the presence of seasoned veterans such as Schneider and Chartrand, gave investors confidence in the team’s ability to deliver. Derek Douglas, the studio’s agent at CAA, had previously represented Wendschuh during his twelve‑year tenure in game development and had headed the video‑game department at William Morris. Despite the high ambitions, Wolf Haus has remained a lean operation, employing only 13 full‑time staff members.

Dietsch emphasizes that the small size is intentional: “We wanted everyone to have a voice, to touch the creative process, and to feel ownership over the final product.” To make a sprawling open‑world game feasible for such a compact crew, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling from the outset. "Every system we build must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch notes.

"We spent the first year simultaneously designing gameplay and constructing the internal tools that would keep the project from collapsing under its own weight." The funding structure further supported this tool‑centric philosophy. Krafton and Lifelike’s equity investment allowed Wolf Haus to self‑finance development, with only a modest amount of project finance earmarked for marketing.

"Our investors are aligned with us to increase the studio’s enterprise value, so they encourage us to build reusable tools," says Wendschuh. "When we encounter a problem we don’t know how to solve, we build a tool.

It may slow us down in the short term, but it enables a tiny team to produce a game of this scale." When asked about the role of generative AI, both Dietsch and Wendschuh are unequivocal: the studio does not employ AI for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential. Using an AI to generate assets would defeat the purpose of why we love making games," Dietsch says.

Wendschuh adds that the only AI they use is for administrative tasks like calendar management and email drafting. Interestingly, Krafton—positioned as an "AI‑first" company—specifically required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Krafton‑owned Neon Giant. The team’s commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s world and audio. The six‑kilometre‑square map was built entirely by hand, and the 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human actors, not synthetic voices.

"That was a non‑negotiable for us, even as a small indie," Wendschuh asserts. Dietsch reflects on the differences between film and game creation.

In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring countless approvals and the involvement of high‑profile talent before a studio greenlights production. By contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours, inserted into an engine, and instantly visualised. "You can have an idea this morning and see it in the engine by lunch," he says, highlighting the immediacy that attracted him to interactive media. Wendschuh observes that film production is heavily front‑loaded: securing a director, A‑list actors, and studio backing before cameras roll.

While anyone can technically shoot a low‑budget movie with a backyard camera, the odds of achieving commercial success without star power or distribution are slim. Games, however, face fewer gatekeepers. "You don’t need an A‑list actor or director to make a hit game," he explains, noting that the lower barrier to entry increases the probability of indie success. Both founders agree that the core creative impulse remains the same across mediums: to craft an experience, tell a story, and engage an audience.

Dietsch recounts that as a six‑year‑old he wanted to make either movies or games, and a coin toss plus a Christmas camera set him on his path. He learned programming on a TI‑83 calculator, blending technical curiosity with narrative passion. "Whether it’s a film or a game, you’re delivering an experience and a story.

That fundamental goal doesn’t change." In summary, Wolf Haus’s Join Us showcases how a small, Hollywood‑infused team can produce a technically ambitious, narrative‑rich title without relying on generative AI. By leveraging deep industry connections, a strong tool‑building culture, and equity funding that respects their creative autonomy, they have turned a whimsical concept—complete with snake‑shooting guns—into a full‑scale, hand‑crafted cult simulator that promises players a uniquely chaotic yet meticulously crafted experience.