The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulation where robed followers zip around on pigs, unleash machine guns, and culminate in a showdown with Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the cut was the infamous snake‑gun, a quirky weapon that emerged from an off‑hand suggestion by a developer’s son. "He asked, ‘Can there be a snake gun?’" recalls Joe Dietsch, CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games.
"We had a rapid‑scaling gun tool, so within half an hour I built a weapon that fires snakes. It blew his mind, and it stayed in the final game." That anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit of Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival title that lets players recruit followers—or teammates in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult. It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first philosophy, which has enabled a high‑fidelity experience to be produced by an exceptionally small crew. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors.
We told everyone, ‘We don’t need a hundred people; twelve is enough.’ Most people laughed and called it impossible." The team’s confidence stems from a history of doing big things on shoestring budgets. "We come from indie film backgrounds and are used to punching far above our weight," Abbott explains. After 80 pitches, they finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which now hold stakes in Wolf Haus. Wolf Haus’s founders are steeped in Hollywood tradition.
Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of Mel Gibson, who later co‑founded the studio. 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, a production company originally founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to Star Citizen.
Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us originated from Dietsch’s tinkering in Unreal Engine. "Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games, but the barrier to actually create something felt huge," he says.
He taught himself through YouTube tutorials, built a few small prototypes, and eventually settled on the concept of a doomsday cult simulator—a mash‑up of survival mechanics and grindhouse cinema that merged his passions for film and gaming into a single intellectual property. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, expecting to hit a technical wall at some point.
When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter took it to Dooma, a production partner. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, began his career as a film producer and screenwriter before moving into games in the early 2000s, providing writing for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. He later founded several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation firm Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million (about $330 million USD). After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, planning a quiet retirement.
Yet a call from his old Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back. "Joe showed me a video of the game, and it blew my mind. I came out of retirement to help," Wendschuh recalls.
He introduced the project to Reid Schneider, former VP at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet. Schneider joined as a strategic advisor and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer. With the core team assembled, the next hurdle was financing—a difficult task given the industry downturn of mid‑2023.
The studio began pitching in the summer of that year, receiving polite interest but little commitment. After partnering with CAA in Los Angeles and re‑pitching in 2024, they finally closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh credits the CAA connection—whose roster includes titles like 007: First Light—and the presence of seasoned veterans such as Schneider and Chartrand for opening doors.
Despite the high‑profile backing, Join Us remains a product of a lean operation: just 13 full‑time staff. Dietsch emphasizes that the small size is intentional, fostering an environment where every voice matters and each team member can touch both creative and technical aspects. To make a sprawling open‑world game feasible with such a limited headcount, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling early on.
"Every system must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch explains. "We spent the first year building the tools alongside the game concepts, ensuring the project wouldn’t collapse under its own weight as the world expanded." The equity funding model gave the studio the runway to perfect these tools. "Krafton and Lifelike’s investment funds the development directly, making the game essentially self‑funded," says Wendschuh. "We’re now adding a modest amount of project finance for marketing, but the core development is covered by their equity." One surprising detail that often surfaces in discussions of tiny‑team development is the role of generative AI.
Wolf Haus deliberately avoids it for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential. Using AI to generate core content would defeat why we get up in the morning," Dietsch states. Wendschuh adds that while they may use AI for mundane tasks like calendar management, none of it touches the artistic side of the game.
Krafton, despite branding itself as an "AI‑first" company, also insisted that Wolf Haus not employ generative AI in the creative pipeline. This mirrors Krafton‑owned Neon Giant’s public stance against AI‑driven development.
Both studios argue that AI could threaten jobs for voice actors, artists, and other creatives. Accordingly, Join Us’s six‑kilometre‑square map is handcrafted, and its 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human performers—a point the team proudly emphasizes. Dietsch reflects on the contrast between filmmaking and game development.
In film, an idea can sit on paper for years before it finally gets green‑lit, requiring numerous high‑profile collaborators. In games, an idea can be prototyped the same day and iterated instantly within the engine. "You can have a concept this morning, drop it into Unreal, see it, tweak it—there’s an immediacy that’s exhilarating," he says. Wendschuh notes that movies are front‑loaded with intense, high‑stakes production phases, often dependent on securing A‑list talent to attract studio backing.
While anyone can technically shoot a backyard movie, breaking through without marquee names is rare. By contrast, the game industry has fewer gatekeepers; a small team can launch a successful title without celebrity endorsements.
Both mediums, however, share a common creative drive: storytelling and immersive experience. "When I was six, I wanted to make either games or movies—it came down to a coin toss and maybe a camera for Christmas," Dietsch muses. "Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re delivering an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience.
That core purpose doesn’t change."