You may remember seeing the trailer for Join Us during the Xbox Showcase in June. The clip introduced a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulation where robed followers charge on pig‑back while firing machine guns, culminating in a shot of massive, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the final cut was the infamous snake gun, a feature that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, proudly attributes to a spontaneous idea from a team member’s child. "One of the kids on the team suggested, ‘What if there was a snake‑gun?’" Dietsch recalls.
"We had a modular weapon system, so within half an hour I built a gun that actually launches snakes. The kid was thrilled, and the weapon stayed in the game." That anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox survival experience where players can recruit followers—or other players in co‑op mode—to join a 1970s‑style cult.
It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a small group of developers to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a much larger staff. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors." "We kept hearing, ‘You can’t build a game of this scope with only twelve people.’ Everyone thought we were crazy," Abbott says. "But we come from indie‑film backgrounds where we learned to punch far above our weight. After 80 pitches, we finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving us the runway to continue." The founders’ Hollywood credentials run deep.
Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson—son of 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, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before he turned his attention to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us began as a hobby project in Unreal Engine.
"I discovered Unreal was free to download and started tinkering after watching YouTube tutorials," Dietsch explains. "I’d loved games for years, but the barrier to actually building something felt huge. Unreal lowered that barrier, and I quickly put together a few small prototypes." Even without prior development experience, Dietsch managed to ship a couple of modest games before deciding to aim higher. "I kept circling back to a doomsday cult simulator because it combined my love of survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema—a perfect mash‑up of my film and game passions." He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, assuming it would soon hit a technical wall.
When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter took it to Dooma, a partner studio that helped refine the vision. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, entered the picture after a long career as a film producer and screenwriter. In the early 2000s he founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative work for titles such as 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 (about $330 million USD). Wendschuh retired to a remote island restaurant in Canada, thinking his creative days were behind him. Yet a call from his old Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back.
"I was ready for beach life, but when I saw Joe’s demo, it blew my mind and I came out of retirement," Wendschuh says. He introduced the project to Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros.
Games VP now heading Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet. Schneider joined as a strategic advisor and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer. With a core team forming, the next hurdle was financing—a daunting task during the industry downturn of 2023‑24.
The studio began pitching in the summer of 2023, initially receiving polite interest but little commitment. After partnering with CAA in Los Angeles and re‑pitching in 2024, they finally closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. "Having CAA on our side, especially an agent like Derek Douglas who’d represented me for twelve years in games, opened doors that would otherwise stay closed," Wendschuh notes.
Despite the heavyweight backing, Wolf Haus deliberately kept its headcount tiny—13 full‑time staff at the time of writing. "We entered the project fully aware of its ambition, but we also wanted a tight‑knit environment where every voice mattered and everyone could touch the creative core," says Dietsch.
To make such a scope feasible, the studio invested heavily in internal tools early on. "Any system we build must be scalable and debuggable by a single person.
We spent the first year simultaneously designing gameplay and building the tooling that would keep the project from collapsing under its own weight." The equity funding model gave the team the breathing room to perfect those tools. "Krafton and Lifelike’s capital funded the entire development, with a small amount of project finance later earmarked for marketing," Wendschuh explains. "Because our investors own equity, they’re motivated to see the studio increase in value, which aligns perfectly with our philosophy of building reusable tools for every challenge we encounter.
It may slow immediate progress, but it enables us to deliver a large‑scale game with a handful of people." When asked about generative AI, the team’s stance is unequivocal: they do not employ it for creative work. "Our process relies on a human touch. Using AI to generate assets would defeat the purpose of why we love making games," Dietsch says. Wendschuh adds, "We only use AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting.
The artistic side—models, textures, voice acting—remains entirely handcrafted." Krafton, despite branding itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline. This mirrors a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio that publicly distanced itself from the parent’s AI push. "We respect creative professionals and don’t want AI to replace voice actors or artists," Wendschuh emphasizes.
The six‑kilometre‑square map in Join Us is hand‑crafted, and the game’s roughly 15,000 voice lines were recorded by real actors—an achievement the team considers essential, even for an indie‑scale project. Dietsch reflects on the contrast between film and games.
In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring approvals, casting, and massive budgets before a director sees a set. In game development, an inspiration can be prototyped within hours. "You can have an idea in the morning, drop it into the engine, and see it instantly.
That immediacy is exhilarating," he says. Wendschuh points out that filmmaking is heavily front‑loaded: securing a star director or A‑list talent is often the gatekeeper to greenlighting. While anyone can shoot a low‑budget movie with a backyard camera, breaking through without marquee names is rare.
By contrast, the game industry has fewer gatekeepers, making it more accessible for small teams to achieve commercial success without celebrity backing. Both veterans agree that the core creative drive remains the same across mediums—telling stories and delivering experiences.
"When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games. It came down to a coin toss and maybe a camera for Christmas.
I learned to program on a TI‑83, so both worlds have always felt like home. Whether you’re crafting a film or a game, you’re shaping an experience and a narrative for the audience," Dietsch concludes.
Join Us, with its off‑beat premise, hand‑crafted world, and a development philosophy that blends Hollywood storytelling with indie‑tech ingenuity, stands as a testament to what a determined, small‑scale team can achieve when they refuse to rely on shortcuts like generative AI and instead lean on human creativity, clever tooling, and a dash of cinematic flair.