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 charge on pig‑back while brandishing machine guns, and the sequence culminates in a terrifying vision of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One element that didn’t make the final cut was the infamous "snake gun," a quirky weapon that originated from an off‑hand suggestion by a developer’s child.
Joe Dietsch, the chief executive officer and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, recounts the moment: “A team member’s son asked if we could make a gun that shot snakes. Because we had built a modular weapon system, I was able to prototype a snake‑firing gun in roughly thirty minutes. The kid went wild, and the weapon stayed in the game.” That anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises.
The title is an open‑world sandbox survival experience where players can recruit AI followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult. Yet the game’s biggest surprise isn’t the absurd weaponry; it’s the way a tiny studio managed to produce a high‑fidelity, large‑scale title with only a dozen full‑time developers.
Michael Abbott, the chief operating officer of Wolf Haus, explains the team’s philosophy: “We set out to be disruptors. Everyone told us a twelve‑person crew couldn’t deliver a game of this scope, but we’d already proven we could punch far above our weight on indie film budgets.” The studio’s journey began with a marathon of pitches—eighty in total—before finally attracting equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital. Those backers each took a stake in Wolf Haus, providing the financial runway needed to turn the prototype into a full product. Wolf Haus’s leadership is steeped in Hollywood pedigree.
Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of famed actor Mel Gibson; 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 originally founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to the Star Citizen project. Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx.
The seed of Join Us sprouted when Dietsch began experimenting with Unreal Engine, drawn by the fact that the engine could be downloaded for free. “I’d loved games for as long as I’d watched movies, but the barrier to actually creating something felt enormous,” he says. He taught himself the basics through YouTube tutorials, built a few modest prototypes, and eventually returned to a concept that fascinated him: a doomsday cult simulator that blended survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics.
He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, showed it to Abbott, and the duo took the concept to Dooma, a partner studio. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s chief financial officer and narrative director, entered the picture after a varied career that spanned film production, screenwriting, and video‑game writing. He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative services for titles such as Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins.
Later, he built 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 island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire. Yet a call from his old Hollywood‑Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back into development when he saw a demo of Join Us and was “blown away.” Through Wendschuh’s network, the studio enlisted Reid Schneider—formerly a vice‑president at Warner Bros.
Games and now head of Raccoon Logic, the creators of Journey to the Savage Planet—as a strategic advisor. Schneider recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer. With this core team in place, the next hurdle was funding, a daunting task given the industry’s downturn in the summer of 2023. After initial outreach, the studio signed with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) in Los Angeles, re‑pitched in 2024, and finally closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton.
Abbott credits CAA’s representation—also handling titles like 007: First Light—and the presence of seasoned veterans such as Schneider and Chartrand for smoothing the fundraising path. “Our agent Derek Douglas had represented me for twelve years in the gaming world and previously headed the video‑game department at William Morris,” Wendschuh notes. What truly distinguishes Join Us is the development methodology. With only thirteen full‑time staff members, Wolf Haus deliberately kept the team small to preserve a collaborative atmosphere where every voice mattered.
Early in the project, the studio invested heavily in building internal tools. “If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person,” Dietsch explains. “We spent the first year simultaneously designing gameplay and constructing the toolchain that would let that gameplay survive the expansion of an open‑world map.” This tool‑centric approach allowed the team to avoid the typical pitfalls of a sprawling project collapsing under its own complexity.
The financing structure further reinforced this philosophy. Krafton and Lifelike’s equity stakes meant the studio could self‑fund development, using the capital exclusively for production.
Only later did they seek modest project finance for marketing purposes. “Equity investors are motivated to increase the studio’s enterprise value, so they support us in building extensive tooling,” says Wendschuh.
“Whenever we encounter a problem we don’t know how to solve, we simply build a tool. It may slow us down in the short term, but it enables a tiny team to deliver a game of this magnitude.” In an era where many studios tout generative‑AI pipelines, Wolf Haus deliberately shuns the technology for creative work. Dietsch states plainly, “We don’t use any generative AI in the creative process.
The human touch is essential to why we get up in the morning.” Wendschuh adds that the only AI they employ is for administrative tasks such as calendar management and email drafting. Interestingly, Krafton—publicly branding itself as an “AI‑first” company—insisted that Wolf Haus avoid generative AI in game creation, mirroring a similar stance taken by Krafton‑owned Neon Giant.
The studio’s 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, not synthetic voices. “That level of manual effort mattered to us, even as an indie,” Dietsch emphasizes. Dietsch also reflects on the contrast between filmmaking and game development.
In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring approvals, casting, and extensive pre‑production. By contrast, a game concept can be prototyped in a single morning: “You can take an idea, drop it into the engine, and instantly see it in action. That immediacy is exhilarating.” Wendschuh agrees, noting that film production is heavily front‑loaded with high‑profile talent needed to secure studio backing, whereas games have far fewer gatekeepers.
“You don’t need an A‑list actor or director to make a successful game,” he says. Both men trace their passion back to childhood.
Dietsch recalls wanting to make either movies or games at six years old, a decision that ultimately hinged on receiving a camera for Christmas. He taught himself programming on a TI‑83 calculator, laying the groundwork for a career that now bridges both mediums. “Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re delivering an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience,” he concludes. Join Us therefore stands as a testament to what a small, tightly knit team can achieve when they combine Hollywood storytelling instincts, savvy business acumen from the cannabis sector, and a relentless focus on building the right tools— all without leaning on generative AI.
The result is a bizarre, immersive cult simulator that promises players an absurd yet meticulously crafted adventure, built by a dozen passionate creators who refused to accept conventional limits.