The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, giving viewers a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulation. In the clip, robed followers ride on pigs, fire machine guns, and the sequence culminates in a shot of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.

What didn’t make the final edit was the infamous snake gun, a quirky weapon that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was born from a child’s imagination. "One of the team members’ kids asked, ‘What would a snake‑shooting gun look like?’" Dietsch recalls. "Because we had a modular weapon system, I was able to prototype a snake‑gun in about thirty minutes.

The kid was thrilled, and the weapon stayed in the game." This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival game where players can recruit followers—or other players in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult. It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has enabled a small team to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a much larger staff. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors.

We told everyone we could build this game with just twelve people, and most people thought we were crazy." Their confidence stems from years of experience in low‑budget, high‑impact projects. "We come from indie filmmaking, where you learn to punch far above your weight," Abbott explains. After 80 pitches, the studio finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving Wolf Haus the financial backing it needed to move forward. The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep.

Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of Mel Gibson, who now co‑founder of 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 transition to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us originated from Dietsch’s experiments in Unreal Engine.

"I discovered Unreal was free to download and started tinkering after watching YouTube tutorials," he says. Though he had no formal training, Dietsch built a few small prototypes before deciding to tackle something bigger: a doomsday cult simulator that blended survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He created a proof‑of‑concept demo, ran into technical roadblocks, and showed the result to Abbott, who then presented it to Dooma, a partner studio.

Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s chief financial officer and narrative director, began his career as a film producer and screenwriter before moving into games in the early 2000s. He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative work 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 company Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million (about $330 million USD). 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. Impressed by Dietsch’s demo, Wendschuh re‑entered development, bringing in veteran game executive Reid Schneider (formerly of Warner Bros. Games) as a strategic advisor and hiring Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, ex‑Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer.

Funding proved to be the next hurdle. The studio began pitching in the summer of 2023, a period marked by a broader industry downturn.

"People liked what we were building, but the market was tight," Dietsch notes. After initial outreach, Wolf Haus signed with CAA in Los Angeles, refined its pitch, and returned to investors in 2024.

The seed round from Lifelike Capital and Krafton finally closed the financing gap. Wendschuh credits CAA’s representation—also handling titles like 007: First Light—and the involvement of seasoned veterans such as Schneider and Chartrand for opening doors.

Despite the high‑profile backing, the studio remains lean, employing only thirteen full‑time staff members. "We entered the project with a clear sense of scope and wanted to keep a small‑team culture where everyone’s voice matters," says Dietsch. To achieve a game of Join Us’s scale, the team invested heavily in custom tooling early on. "Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," he explains.

The first year of development was therefore split between ideating gameplay and building the underlying toolset that would allow the open‑world map to expand without collapsing under its own complexity. The equity model with Krafton and Lifelike gave Wolf Haus the runway to perfect these tools. "The investors are motivated to increase the studio’s enterprise value, so they support our tool‑building ethos," Wendschuh says.

This approach sometimes slows raw feature development, but it enables a tiny team to deliver a product that rivals games made by studios ten times its size. When asked about generative AI, the team draws a firm line. "We don’t use generative AI for any creative work," Dietsch affirms. "Our process relies on a human touch; handing the development over to an algorithm would defeat the purpose of why we love making games." Wendschuh adds that the studio only employs AI for administrative tasks like calendar management and email drafting.

Interestingly, Krafton—publicly positioning itself as an "AI‑first" company—insisted that Wolf Haus avoid AI in the creative pipeline, echoing similar statements from Krafton‑owned Neon Giant. The 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. "Even as a small indie, we felt it was crucial to preserve that human element," Dietsch says. Dietsch also reflects on the differences between film and game production. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring approvals, casting, and extensive pre‑production.

In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped the same day it is conceived. "You can have an idea at breakfast and see it in the engine by lunch," he enthuses. Wendschuh notes that film production is heavily front‑loaded, often hinging on securing a few high‑profile talent to greenlight a project. While anyone can technically shoot a movie with a backyard camera, breaking through without star power or a distribution deal is rare.

By comparison, the barriers to entry for games are lower, allowing small teams to reach a global audience without A‑list names. Both mediums, however, share a core creative impulse: storytelling and experience design.

"When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games, and it came down to a coin toss and a Christmas camera," Dietsch laughs. He learned programming on a TI‑83 calculator, a skill that later merged with his cinematic passions.

"Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re trying to give someone an experience, tell a story, and engage them. That fundamental goal doesn’t change across mediums."