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 ride pig‑back while firing machine guns, culminating in a shot of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One of the most memorable, yet omitted, moments was the appearance of a "snake gun," a quirky weapon that originated from an off‑hand suggestion by a team member’s child. Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, recounts how the idea was quickly turned into reality: using an in‑house tool that allowed rapid weapon prototyping, Dietsch spent roughly thirty minutes building a gun that launches serpents, a feature that remains in the final product.
This anecdote encapsulates the chaotic, improvisational style of gameplay that Join Us promises. The title is an open‑world sandbox survival experience where players can amass followers—or invite friends into co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult. It also highlights the studio’s technology‑first philosophy, which has enabled a high‑fidelity, large‑scale title to be produced by a remarkably small crew.
Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, explains that the team set out to be "disruptors," believing they could deliver a AAA‑level experience with just a dozen developers. "Everyone told us it was impossible," he says, "but we’ve spent our careers in indie film, learning to punch far above our weight." Wolf Haus’s founders bring deep Hollywood connections to the table. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University, where he met Louie Gibson—son of 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, the production company originally founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx. These cinematic backgrounds informed their approach to game development, blending narrative sensibility with technical ambition.
The seed of Join Us sprouted when Dietsch began experimenting with Unreal Engine after discovering it could be downloaded for free. He describes the early days as a solitary learning journey, guided by YouTube tutorials and a desire to break down the perceived barrier to entry for creating interactive experiences. After building a few modest prototypes, he returned to a concept that had long fascinated him: a doomsday cult simulator that merged survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. The proof‑of‑concept demo impressed Abbott, who then introduced it to Dooma, a partner that helped shape the project’s direction.
Key to the studio’s evolution was the involvement of Dooma’s chief financial officer and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh. Wendschuh’s career began in film production and screenwriting before he pivoted to video games in the early 2000s, founding Sekretagent Productions, a writing house that contributed narrative content to titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. In the 2010s he launched several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (about $330 million USD).
After the sale, he purchased a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire. However, a chance call from his old Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back into development when he saw Dietsch’s demo and was “blown away.” Wendschuh then recruited Reid Schneider—formerly a vice‑president at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet—to serve as a strategic advisor.
Schneider brought on Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a veteran Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer. With this core leadership in place, the team turned its attention to financing, a task made more difficult by a broader industry downturn that began in mid‑2023.
Initial pitches attracted interest but also skepticism. Dietsch recalls that while reviewers found the concept “cool,” the timing was challenging. The studio eventually aligned with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) in Los Angeles, leveraging the agency’s connections to secure a seed round from Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh notes that CAA’s representation—also handling titles like 007: First Light—combined with the credibility of veterans such as Schneider and Chartrand, helped convince investors.
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. What truly distinguishes Join Us is the scale of its ambition relative to the size of its team. With only 13 full‑time staff members, Wolf Haus deliberately cultivated a small‑team culture where each employee has a voice and can directly influence creative decisions. To make a sprawling open‑world game feasible for such a lean crew, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling from the outset.
"If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch explains. The first year of development was split between ideating gameplay and constructing the underlying toolset, ensuring that as features proliferated across the map, the project wouldn’t collapse under its own complexity.
Funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital was structured as equity investment, allowing the studio to self‑finance the bulk of development. While a modest amount of project finance has been allocated for marketing, the core development costs have been covered by the investors’ capital. This equity model aligns the investors’ interests with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the continued building of tools that solve problems in‑house—even if that approach slows immediate progress, it empowers the tiny team to achieve a scope that would otherwise require dozens of developers.
In an industry increasingly fascinated by generative AI, Wolf Haus has deliberately steered clear of using such technology in the creative pipeline. Dietsch emphasizes that the studio values a human touch in game creation, viewing AI‑generated content as antithetical to the passion that drives them each morning. Wendschuh adds that while the team may use AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting, none of it influences design, art, or narrative. Interestingly, Krafton—despite branding itself as an "AI‑first" company—insisted that Wolf Haus not employ generative AI for creative work, mirroring a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio.
The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s world and audio. The six‑kilometre‑square map is entirely hand‑built, and the 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human actors, a point the team proudly highlights as a testament to their indie ethos.
Dietsch contrasts the immediacy of game development with the protracted timelines of film production. In cinema, an idea may take years to reach the set, requiring numerous approvals and high‑profile talent to secure financing. By contrast, a game concept can be prototyped in a single morning, inserted into the engine, and instantly iterated upon—an agility that Dietsch finds exhilarating.
Wendschuh observes that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with intense, high‑stakes set work and a reliance on securing A‑list directors or actors to greenlight a project. While anyone can technically shoot a low‑budget film with a backyard camera, breaking through without star power or distribution is rare. Video games, however, face fewer gatekeepers; a small team can release a polished product without needing celebrity endorsements.
This democratization fuels Wolf Haus’s belief that a dedicated, skilled team can create a compelling experience without the trappings of Hollywood fame. Reflecting on his childhood, Dietsch recalls a pivotal moment when a coin toss decided whether he would pursue games or movies, ultimately leading him to both. He learned programming on a TI‑83 calculator and has since blended his love for storytelling across mediums. "Whether you’re making a movie or a game, you’re crafting an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience," he says.
This shared creative impulse continues to drive Wolf Haus as they bring Join Us to life—a bizarre, satirical cult simulator built by a handful of Hollywood‑savvy developers who chose tools, talent, and tenacity over AI shortcuts.