The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator. In the clip, robed followers zip around on pigs, fire machine guns, and the sequence culminates with an image of massive, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the cut was the infamous “snake gun,” a quirky weapon that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was inspired by a child’s off‑hand suggestion. "One of the team member’s kids asked, ‘What would a snake‑shooting gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool, so within half an hour I built a gun that actually fires snakes.

The kid went nuts, and we kept it in the final build," Dietsch recounts. This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or other players in co‑op mode—to join a 1970s‑style cult. The game’s development philosophy mirrors this chaos. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, describes the studio’s ambition as deliberately disruptive.

"We told everyone we could deliver a AAA‑level experience with just twelve people. Most people laughed and said it was impossible," he says. Their confidence stems from a history of over‑achieving on shoestring budgets in the indie film world, where they learned to punch far above their weight. After 80 pitch meetings, the studio finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving Wolf Haus the financial runway it needed.

Wolf Haus’s leadership team is steeped in Hollywood pedigree. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of actor‑director 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, a production company founded by Chris Roberts before he turned his attention to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced titles such as Fight for ’84 with Jamie Foxx. Join Us began as a hobby project in Unreal Engine.

"Unreal was free to download, and I was fascinated by the barrier that kept people from creating games. I started learning from YouTube tutorials and built a few tiny prototypes," Dietsch explains. Though he lacked formal game‑dev experience, he soon crafted a small proof‑of‑concept that combined his love of grindhouse cinema, survival mechanics, and the idea of a doomsday cult. He showed the demo to Abbott, who then introduced it to Dooma, a partner studio.

Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s CFO and narrative director, entered the industry as a film producer and screenwriter before shifting to 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, most notably the cannabis‑formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million). After the sale, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, planning a quiet retirement.

That retirement was short‑lived. A call from his old Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, alerted him to a video game prototype that blew his mind. "I thought I was done, but the game reignited my passion and pulled me back into development," Wendschuh says.

He brought the project to Reid Schneider, former VP at Warner Bros. Games and current head of Raccoon Logic, who became a strategic advisor and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a veteran Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer.

With a core team forming, the next hurdle was financing. The studio began pitching in the summer of 2023, a period marked by an industry downturn. Despite the bleak climate, the concept generated excitement. After initial outreach, Wolf Haus signed with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) in Los Angeles, which helped refine their pitch and secure a seed round from Lifelike Capital and Krafton in 2024.

Wendschuh credits CAA’s representation—alongside the involvement of seasoned industry veterans like Schneider and Chartrand—for opening doors that might otherwise have remained closed. The resulting studio is remarkably lean: only 13 full‑time staff members. Dietsch emphasizes that a small‑team model fosters a collaborative environment where every voice matters and each person can touch both the creative and technical aspects of the game.

To make such an ambitious open‑world title feasible, the team invested heavily in custom tooling early on. "Every system must be scalable and debuggable by a single developer," he notes.

The first year of development was therefore split between ideation and building the internal tools that would later allow the game to expand across a six‑kilometre‑square map without collapsing under its own weight. Funding from Krafton and Lifelike has been instrumental in giving the studio the breathing room to perfect these tools. The investment is structured as equity, meaning the investors share in the studio’s long‑term value creation.

This arrangement encourages Wolf Haus to continue building robust pipelines, even if it slows short‑term progress, because the tools become reusable assets for future projects. When asked about the role of generative AI, the team’s answer is unequivocal: they do not rely on it for creative work.

"Our process is fundamentally human‑driven. We love making games ourselves; handing that over to an AI would defeat the purpose of why we get up every morning," Dietsch says.

Wendschuh adds that while they may use AI for mundane tasks like calendar management, it never touches the artistic side of development. Interestingly, Krafton—publicly branding itself as an “AI‑first” company—explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Krafton‑owned Neon Giant.

The studio’s commitment to human craftsmanship extends to the game’s assets. The entire six‑kilometre‑square world is hand‑crafted, and all 15,000 voice lines are recorded by real actors, not synthetic voices.

Dietsch believes this dedication to authenticity is essential, even for an indie title. Transitioning from film to games, Dietsch appreciates the immediacy of interactive media. In film, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring countless approvals and the coordination of high‑profile talent.

In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped in a single morning, inserted into the engine, and instantly experienced. This rapid feedback loop fuels the team’s creative energy.

Wendschuh observes that traditional filmmaking is front‑loaded with high‑stakes negotiations for directors and stars, making it difficult for a small, unknown project to break through without major backing. Game development, by contrast, has far fewer gatekeepers; a small team can ship a successful product without A‑list names. This democratization is a key factor in Wolf Haus’s confidence to pursue an ambitious vision with a modest crew.

Both Dietsch and Wendschuh reflect on how their childhood passions—games for Dietsch and movies for Wendschuh—have converged. "Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re crafting an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience," they agree.

Their shared belief in the power of narrative drives Join Us forward, promising players a wildly original cult‑sim built by a handful of Hollywood‑savvy developers who chose to rely on human ingenuity over algorithmic shortcuts.