The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulator. In the clip, robed followers charge on pig‑mounted platforms, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with a monstrous, Cthulhu‑like mass of tentacles. What viewers didn’t see was the infamous "snake gun," a weapon that, according to Joe Dietsch—CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games—originated from a simple suggestion by a team member’s child. "His son asked, ‘What if there’s a gun that shoots snakes?’" Dietsch recalls.
"Because we had a modular weapon‑creation tool, I was able to prototype a snake‑shooting gun in roughly thirty minutes. The kid was thrilled, and the weapon stayed in the final build." That anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us. The game is an open‑world sandbox survival experience where players can recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult. It also showcases the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a small crew to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a far 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 a AAA‑level game with just twelve people.
Most people thought we were crazy." The team’s confidence stems from a background in low‑budget, high‑impact productions. "We come from indie film," Abbott explained, "so we’re used to punching far above our weight." After 80 pitches, Wolf Haus finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in the studio. The founders’ Hollywood roots run deep.
Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, the son of Mel Gibson, who later co‑founded Wolf Haus and 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 shift to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us began as a side project for Dietsch while he was experimenting with Unreal Engine.
"Unreal Engine was free to download, and I’d always loved games," he says. "It felt like there was a huge barrier to entry for creating something, but I just started watching YouTube tutorials and playing around." Even without formal training, Dietsch managed to release a couple of small titles before deciding to tackle something bigger. The concept of a doomsday cult simulator kept resurfacing because it merged his love of survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics, creating a unique intellectual property that straddles both film and gaming. He built a proof‑of‑concept prototype, 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, had previously worked as a film producer and screenwriter before moving into games in the early 2000s. He founded Sekretagent Productions, which supplied writing for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later, Wendschuh launched several tech ventures, including the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million).
After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote restaurant on a tiny Canadian island, intending to retire. Yet, in classic Hollywood fashion, an unexpected call from his old roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back. "I was looking at a game Joe had made, and it blew my mind," Wendschuh says, prompting him to join the project.
He introduced Reid Schneider—formerly a vice‑president at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic—to serve as a strategic advisor, and Schneider recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, an ex‑Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer.
With the core team in place, the next hurdle was financing, which proved difficult during an industry downturn. The studio began pitching in summer 2023, initially without representation. After signing with CAA (Creative Artists Agency) in Los Angeles, they relaunched their pitch deck in 2024 and eventually closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh credits the CAA connection—and the presence of veterans like Schneider and Chartrand—for opening doors that might otherwise have remained closed.
Despite the heavyweight backing, Wolf Haus has kept its staff lean: thirteen full‑time employees at the time of writing. "We wanted a small‑team atmosphere where everyone has a voice and can touch the creative process," Dietsch explains.
To make a large‑scale open world feasible with such a small crew, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling early on. "If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," he notes. The first year of development was split between ideating gameplay and building the internal tools that would later allow the project to scale without collapsing under its own weight. The equity funding model gave Wolf Haus the runway to perfect those tools.
"Krafton and Lifelike’s investment funds were used to finance the game itself, essentially making it self‑funded," says Wendschuh. "We’re now only taking on a modest amount of project finance for marketing." One of the most striking aspects of Wolf Haus’s approach is its deliberate avoidance of generative AI in the creative pipeline.
When asked about AI, Dietsch gave a concise answer: "We don’t use any generative AI. The human touch is essential to us." Wendschuh adds that the studio only employs AI for administrative tasks such as calendar management and email drafting. "We never use it for any creative work," he affirms. Interestingly, Krafton—despite branding itself as an "AI‑first" company—insisted that Wolf Haus not incorporate generative AI into its development process, fearing it could devalue the studio’s creative output.
This stance mirrors comments from Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio that publicly denied using generative AI. The team’s commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s world and voice work. The six‑kilometre‑square map was built entirely by hand, and all 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human actors, a point Dietsch emphasizes as a badge of pride for a small indie studio. Dietsch also reflects on the differences between filmmaking and game development.
In film, 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 idea can be prototyped in a single morning and instantly visualised in the engine, offering a level of immediacy that he finds exhilarating. Wendschuh notes that while film production is heavily front‑loaded—requiring intense coordination to secure directors, actors, and financing—games have far fewer gatekeepers.
"Anyone can make a movie with a cheap camera, but without big names or distribution, success is unlikely. With games, the barriers are lower, and you don’t need an A‑list actor or director to reach an audience," he says. Both founders agree that the core creative impulse is the same across mediums: delivering an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience.
"When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games. It came down to a coin toss and a camera for Christmas. I learned to program on a TI‑83, so I’ve always been drawn to both," Dietsch reflects.
"Whether it’s film or a game, you’re crafting a narrative and an experience for someone else, and that fundamental goal doesn’t change." In summary, Wolf Haus’s journey illustrates how a blend of Hollywood heritage, savvy tech development, and strategic financing can enable a tiny team to produce an ambitious, high‑quality title without relying on generative AI. Their story underscores the evolving landscape of interactive entertainment, where small, passionate groups can rival traditional studios by leveraging custom tools, industry connections, and a steadfast commitment to handcrafted creativity.