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, unleash machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with a massive, Cthulhu‑like mass of tentacles. What didn’t make the cut, according to Joe Dietsch—CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games—is the infamous snake gun. "One of the team members’ kids suggested a snake‑shooting weapon," Dietsch recalls.
"We had a modular gun system, so I whipped up a snake‑gun in about thirty minutes. The kid went nuts, and we kept it in the final build." That anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult empire. It also illustrates the studio’s tech‑first mindset, which has enabled a high‑fidelity title to emerge from a surprisingly small development team. "We set out to be disruptors," says Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer.
"We told everyone we could deliver a AAA‑level experience with just twelve people. Most people laughed." The team’s confidence stems from a history of doing big things on shoestring budgets. "We come from indie film,” Abbott explains. “We’re used to punching far above our weight.” After 80 pitches, the studio finally secured equity financing from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in Wolf Haus.
Wolf Haus’s founders are steeped in Hollywood. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of Mel Gibson, who later co‑founded the studio.
The pair 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 started by Chris Roberts before his Star Citizen venture. Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. The seed of Join Us was planted when Dietsch began tinkering with Unreal Engine.
"Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt blocked from actually making one," he says. He taught himself through YouTube tutorials, built a few small prototypes, and eventually settled on a doomsday cult simulator that blended survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He created a proof‑of‑concept demo, expecting to hit a technical wall soon after. When he showed it to Abbott, the latter took the demo to Dooma, a production partner.
Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, had previously produced and written for film before moving into games in the early 2000s, contributing writing to titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. He later founded several tech ventures, including the cannabis formulation firm Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million.
After a brief retirement on a remote Canadian island, Wendschuh was coaxed back into the industry by a call from his old Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott. "I watched the demo and it blew my mind," he says, prompting him to bring in Reid Schneider—former Warner Bros.
Games VP and now head of Raccoon Logic—as a strategic advisor, and to recruit Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, ex‑Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer. Funding proved challenging amid a market downturn. The studio began pitching in summer 2023, received positive feedback but struggled to close deals.
After partnering with CAA in Los Angeles and re‑pitching in 2024, they finally landed seed money from Lifelike Capital and Krafton. "CAA’s connections and the credibility of advisors like Schneider and Chartrand were crucial," notes Wendschuh. Despite the high‑profile backing, the studio remains lean—13 full‑time staff members. Dietsch emphasizes that everyone on the team has a say in the creative direction, fostering a tightly knit environment where each voice matters.
To make such an ambitious open‑world game feasible with a small crew, Wolf Haus invested heavily in custom tooling early on. "Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch explains. "We spent the first year building the tools that let us prototype ideas and then expand them across a six‑kilometre‑square map without the project collapsing under its own weight." The equity funding model gave the studio the runway to perfect these tools.
"Krafton and Lifelike’s investment essentially self‑funded the development," says Wendschuh. "We’re now adding a modest project‑finance component for marketing, but the core development was covered by the equity partners." When asked about generative AI, the team is unequivocal: they avoid it for creative work. "We believe a game needs a human touch," Dietsch says. "We have a few AI subscriptions for mundane tasks like calendar management, but nothing influences the game’s design or art." Krafton, which has been branding itself as an "AI‑first" company, actually insisted that Wolf Haus not use generative AI in the creative pipeline, fearing it could dilute the studio’s artistic integrity.
This stance mirrors that of Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio that publicly denied using AI for its projects. "We respect creative professionals and don’t want AI to replace voice actors or artists," Wendschuh adds. The six‑kilometre‑square world of Join Us is handcrafted, and its 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human talent.
Dietsch reflects on the contrast between film and games. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring countless approvals and star power before it reaches a set. In games, an inspiration can be coded and tested within hours, offering immediate feedback.
"You can have an idea at breakfast and see it in the engine by lunch," he says, highlighting the immediacy that attracted him to interactive media. Wendschuh points out that filmmaking is heavily front‑loaded: securing a high‑profile director or actor is often the make‑or‑break factor for a studio’s green‑light. While anyone can shoot a backyard movie, breaking through without big names or distribution is rare. By contrast, the barriers to entry for games are lower, and a small, passionate team can achieve commercial success without A‑list talent.
Both mediums, however, share a core purpose: storytelling and delivering an experience. "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," Dietsch muses. "Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re trying to engage an audience, tell a story, and create an emotional journey.
The tools differ, but the creative impulse is the same."