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 zip around on pigs, wielding machine guns, before the screen erupts into a vision of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One element that didn’t make the final edit was the infamous "snake gun," a weapon that originated from a casual suggestion by a team member’s child.
Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, recounted the moment: “The kid asked, ‘What would a snake gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool, so within half an hour I built a gun that actually fires snakes. He was ecstatic, and we kept it in the game.” That anecdote perfectly illustrates the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises.
The title is an open‑world sandbox survival experience where players can recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op mode—to join a 1970s‑style cult. But beyond the wild premise, the project also showcases a technology‑first philosophy that has allowed a small studio to produce a high‑fidelity, large‑scale title with a surprisingly lean 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‑person studio; twelve talented people can deliver.’ Most people laughed and said it was impossible.” Their confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where they learned to achieve cinematic impact on shoestring budgets.
After 80 pitches, the team finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving Wolf Haus the financial runway to bring their vision to life. The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of Mel Gibson, who later co‑founded Wolf Haus and co‑wrote the indie features Happy Hunting and Manifest West.
Abbott is the son of renowned makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before his Star Citizen venture. Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. This blend of film experience and entrepreneurial grit shaped the studio’s approach to game development. Join Us was born when Dietsch began experimenting with Unreal Engine, attracted by its free download model.
“I’d loved games for years, but creating one felt like a massive barrier,” he explained. Using YouTube tutorials, he built a few small prototypes before deciding to tackle something bigger—a doomsday cult simulator that fused his love of grindhouse cinema with survival mechanics.
He created a proof‑of‑concept demo, ran into technical roadblocks, and showed the result to Abbott, who then introduced the project to Dooma, a partner studio. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s CFO and narrative director, entered the picture after a career that spanned film production, screenwriting, and video‑game narrative work. He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing story services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins.
Later, he built and sold a cannabis‑formulation company, Ebbu, for roughly C$430 million. After a brief retirement on a remote Canadian island, a call from his old Hollywood‑Hills roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into the industry.
Impressed by Dietsch’s demo, Wendschuh recruited former Warner Bros. Games VP Reid Schneider as a strategic advisor and brought in Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve 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. Although the concept generated excitement, securing capital was difficult.
The team eventually partnered with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) for representation, which opened doors to additional investors. Their persistence paid off in 2024 when Lifelike Capital and Krafton closed a seed round, providing the equity needed to continue development.
Wolf Haus deliberately kept its staff small—13 full‑time employees at the time of writing—to preserve a tight‑knit creative environment where every voice matters. Dietsch emphasized that the team entered the project with a clear understanding of its scope and a commitment to a collaborative culture.
To make such an ambitious game feasible with a limited headcount, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling from the outset. “Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single person,” he said. The first year of development was therefore split between designing gameplay concepts and building the internal tools that would allow those concepts to scale across a massive open world. The equity funding model gave Wolf Haus the breathing room to perfect these tools.
Krafton and Lifelike’s investment was used primarily to finance development, with only a modest portion allocated to project finance for marketing later on. This structure aligns the investors’ interests with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the team to build reusable tools rather than taking shortcuts.
When asked about the role of generative AI, Dietsch was unequivocal: the studio does not employ AI for any creative tasks. “We believe a human touch is essential.
Hand‑crafting the experience is why we get up in the morning.” Wendschuh added that while they use AI for mundane administrative tasks—such as calendar management and email drafting—they deliberately avoid it in art, design, or narrative work. Interestingly, Krafton, which has publicly positioned itself as an “AI‑first” company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to refrain from using generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑backed studio.
The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s world and audio. The six‑kilometre‑square map was built entirely by hand, and all 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human actors, underscoring the studio’s dedication to a fully human‑crafted experience despite its indie size.
Dietsch reflected on the differences between filmmaking and game development, noting the immediacy of the latter. In film, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring approvals, casting, and extensive pre‑production.
In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped in a single morning, placed directly into the engine, and instantly visualized. This rapid iteration cycle fuels the team’s creativity and keeps the development process dynamic.
Wendschuh observed that traditional film production is front‑loaded with high‑stakes negotiations to secure star talent and studio backing. While anyone can technically shoot a movie with a consumer‑grade camera, breaking through without marquee names or distribution deals is rare. Game development, however, presents fewer gatekeepers; a small team can release a polished product without needing A‑list actors or directors.
This democratization is a key factor behind Wolf Haus’s confidence in pursuing an ambitious project with a modest roster. Both founders agree that the core drive behind movies and games is the same: storytelling and delivering an immersive experience.
Dietsch recalled his childhood fascination with both mediums, saying, “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 creation. Whether it’s a film or a game, you’re trying to tell a story and engage an audience.” In summary, Wolf Haus’s journey illustrates how a blend of Hollywood experience, savvy entrepreneurship, and a tool‑centric development philosophy can enable a tiny team to produce a large‑scale, high‑quality game without relying on generative AI. Their story serves as a testament to the power of creative ambition, disciplined engineering, and the belief that a handful of passionate individuals can indeed disrupt the status quo.