The buzz around Join Us began when its trailer lit up the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulator. In the clip, robed followers zip around on pig‑back, brandishing machine guns, before the screen erupts into an image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the final cut, however, was the infamous "snake gun"—a weapon that literally fires serpents.
According to Joe Dietsch, the game’s CEO and creative director at Wolf Haus Games, the idea sprang from a child’s off‑hand question. "One of our team member’s sons asked, ‘What would a snake gun look like?’ We had a modular weapon system, so I whipped up a snake‑shooting prototype in about thirty minutes. The kid went nuts, and the gun stayed in the game," Dietsch recalls. This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or bring friends into the fold—to build a 1970s‑style doomsday cult.
What makes the project even more striking is the studio’s lean development model. Wolf Haus operates with roughly a dozen full‑time staff, yet aims to deliver a high‑fidelity, large‑scale experience. Michael Abbott, the studio’s chief operating officer, summed up their philosophy: "We wanted to be disruptors.
While everyone told us a twelve‑person team couldn’t build a game of this scope, we proved them wrong." Their confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where small crews routinely punch far above their weight. After 80 pitches, the team finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving them the runway needed to turn their vision into reality. The founding trio brings deep Hollywood connections to the table. 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 renowned makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, a production house founded by Chris Roberts before his foray into Star Citizen. Abbott also produced films such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx.
These cinematic roots inform the game’s visual storytelling and its love of grindhouse aesthetics. Join Us originated from Dietsch’s early experiments in Unreal Engine. "I discovered Unreal was free to download, and despite being a lifelong gamer and movie fan, I felt the barrier to actually creating something was huge," he explains.
He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, built a few modest prototypes, and eventually settled on a doomsday cult simulator—a concept that fused his passions for survival mechanics, horror cinema, and off‑beat humor. The initial proof‑of‑concept was rough but promising; Abbott saw its potential and took it to Dooma, a partner studio that helped refine the vision.
A pivotal figure in the studio’s evolution is Dooma CFO and narrative director Dooma Wendschuh. After a career as a film producer and screenwriter, Wendschuh pivoted to games in the early 2000s, founding Sekretagent Productions, which contributed writing to titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. He later built several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis‑formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million. Following that windfall, he 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 into the fray. After reviewing a demo of Join Us, Wendschuh was convinced and re‑entered the industry, bringing along veteran advisor Reid Schneider—formerly a VP at Warner Bros. Games—and recruiting former Ubisoft Montreal programmer Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand as chief technology officer. Funding proved to be a steep climb.
The studio began pitching in the summer of 2023, a period marked by an industry downturn. "People liked what we were building, but the market was tough," says Dietsch.
The team enlisted CAA (Creative Artists Agency) as representation, re‑approached investors in 2024, and ultimately closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh credits the CAA connection—whose roster includes titles like 007: First Light—as well as the credibility added by Schneider and Chartrand in securing the capital. Despite the high ambitions, Wolf Haus deliberately kept its staff count low: thirteen full‑time employees at the time of writing.
This decision was driven by a desire to maintain a tight‑knit culture where every voice matters and everyone can touch both the creative and technical aspects of the game. To make such a massive undertaking feasible, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling from day one.
"If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single developer," Dietsch notes. The first year of development was therefore split between ideating gameplay and building the internal toolset that would allow those ideas to scale across a six‑kilometre‑square open world without collapsing under their own complexity.
The equity partnership with Kraftor and Lifelike also shaped the financial approach. The capital they provided was used to self‑fund the entire development, with only a modest amount of project finance earmarked for marketing. This model gave the studio the freedom to iterate on tools and features without the pressure of external milestones.
"Our investors benefit when the studio’s enterprise value grows, so they support our tool‑building ethos," explains Wendschuh. "When we encounter a problem we can’t solve, we simply build a tool for it.
It may slow us down in the short term, but it enables a small team to produce a game of this magnitude." In an era where many studios tout generative‑AI pipelines, Wolf Haus deliberately eschews such technology for core creative work. "We don’t use generative AI in development," says Dietsch. "The human touch is essential; handing the creative process over to an algorithm would defeat why we get up in the morning." Wendschuh adds that the studio only uses AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting.
"We have no AI‑generated art, dialogue, or code," he emphasizes. Interestingly, Krafton—publicly branding itself as an ‘AI‑first’ company—insisted that Wolf Haus not employ generative AI in its creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Krafton‑owned Neon Giant.
The team’s commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s massive map and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors. "The six‑kilometre‑square world is hand‑built, and every line of dialogue is performed by people," Dietsch stresses. This dedication reflects a broader philosophy that values artistic labor over automation, especially given concerns about AI displacing voice actors and visual artists.
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. By contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours, allowing immediate iteration.
"You can have an idea in the morning, drop it into the engine, and see it in action the same day," he says. Wendschuh observes that while movies are front‑loaded with intensive pre‑production, games benefit from fewer gatekeepers; you don’t need an A‑list star or director to get a project off the ground. Both creators agree that storytelling is the common thread.
Whether through a camera lens or a game engine, the goal is to craft an experience that engages, entertains, and tells a compelling story. "When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games.
It boiled down to a coin toss and maybe getting a camera for Christmas," Dietsch muses. "Programming on a TI‑83 taught me the basics, and whether it’s film or games, you’re delivering an experience and a narrative. That core purpose never changes." In summary, Wolf Haus’s journey illustrates how a small, Hollywood‑savvy team can defy industry expectations, leveraging custom tools, strategic equity partners, and a steadfast commitment to human‑crafted content to build a sprawling, high‑budget‑looking game without relying on generative AI. Their story is a testament to the power of ingenuity, cross‑disciplinary talent, and the belief that a dozen passionate creators can indeed build something monumental.