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 pigs, fire machine guns, and eventually confront colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One element that didn’t make the final cut of the teaser was the infamous "snake gun," a quirky weapon that originated from a simple suggestion by a team member’s child. Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, recounts how his team quickly built a prototype that launched serpents from a firearm in roughly thirty minutes, a feature that still appears in the game today. That anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit at the heart of Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival experience that lets players recruit followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to a retro‑styled 1970s cult.
It also highlights the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has enabled a small crew to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a much larger staff. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, explains the team’s ambition: “We wanted to be disruptors.
We told everyone we could build a AAA‑scale game with just twelve people. Most people thought we were crazy.” Their confidence stems from a history of achieving big results on modest budgets. Coming from indie filmmaking, the founders are accustomed to “punching above our weight.” After 80 pitches, they finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which now hold stakes in Wolf Haus.
The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of actor‑director Mel Gibson, who later co‑founded Wolf Haus.
Together they co‑wrote and co‑directed the indie features Happy Hunting and Manifest West. Abbott is the son of renowned makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, a production company originally founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to the Star Citizen project. Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us began as a personal experiment for Dietsch in Unreal Engine.
“I discovered Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt there was a huge barrier to creating something myself,” he says. He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, eventually crafting a few small prototypes. The idea that stuck with him was a doomsday cult simulator that blended survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics—a concept that could fuse his passions for movies and games into a single intellectual property. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, assuming it would eventually hit a technical wall.
When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter took it to Dooma, a partner studio that helped refine the vision. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, had previously worked as a producer and screenwriter in film before moving into games in the early 2000s. He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing writing services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins.
Later he launched several tech ventures, including the cannabis formulation firm Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million). After selling his cannabis business, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire. Yet a call from his old Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back into development. “Joe showed me his game and it blew my mind,” Wendschuh recalls, prompting him to join the project.
He introduced Reid Schneider—formerly a 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, in turn, recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a veteran programmer from Ubisoft Montreal, to serve as chief technology officer.
With the core team in place, the next hurdle was financing. The studio began pitching in the summer of 2023, a period marked by an industry downturn. Although the concept generated enthusiasm, securing capital proved difficult.
After initial outreach, Wolf Haus signed with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) in Los Angeles and resumed pitching throughout 2024. Their persistence paid off when Lifelike Capital and Krafton closed a seed round, providing the resources needed to continue development. Wendschuh believes the CAA connection—alongside the involvement of seasoned industry veterans—was instrumental. “Our agent Derek Douglas had represented me for twelve years and previously led the video‑game department at William Morris,” he notes.
What truly sets Join Us apart is its production model: a full‑time staff of just thirteen people. Dietsch emphasizes that the team entered the project with a clear understanding of its scope, striving to keep the environment intimate so that every member could influence the creative direction. To achieve such ambition with a lean crew, Wolf Haus invested heavily in custom tooling early on.
“If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person,” Dietsch explains. The studio devoted a significant portion of the first development year to building a robust toolkit that would allow features to expand across an open‑world map without causing the project to collapse under its own weight. The equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike allowed the studio to self‑finance the game’s development, using the investment primarily for tool creation and production costs.
While they have begun to explore project‑finance options for marketing, the core development remains fully covered by the equity partners. This arrangement aligns investor incentives with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the continued development of in‑house tools that solve problems as they arise.
When asked about generative AI—a hot topic in game development—Dietsch gives a concise answer: the studio does not employ AI for creative work. “We believe a human touch is essential. Turning the creative process over to an algorithm would defeat the reason we get up every morning,” he says. Wendschuh adds that the team only uses AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting, never for design, art, or narrative creation.
Krafton, despite branding itself as an “AI‑first” company, also insisted that Wolf Haus avoid generative AI in its creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Krafton‑owned Neon Giant. The studio’s commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s six‑kilometre‑square map, which was built entirely by hand, and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors. “That was non‑negotiable for us, even as a small indie,” says Dietsch. Transitioning from film to games, Dietsch appreciates the immediacy games provide.
In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring approvals and large crews. In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours, allowing developers to see their vision instantly in the engine.
Wendschuh observes that filmmaking is heavily front‑loaded, with intense pre‑production phases dominated by securing high‑profile talent to green‑light a project. While anyone can shoot a low‑budget movie, the odds of commercial success without star power or distribution are slim. Game development, however, faces fewer gatekeepers; a small team can release a polished product without needing A‑list actors or directors.
Both mediums share a core creative drive: storytelling and evoking experience. Dietsch reflects on his childhood, when a coin toss decided whether he’d pursue games or movies, ultimately leading him to a career that blends both. His journey underscores the belief that whether through film or interactive entertainment, the goal remains the same—to craft compelling narratives that engage audiences.