The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, giving viewers a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulator. In the clip, robed cultists charge on pig‑back, wielding machine guns, before the scene shifts to an image of massive, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.

One detail that didn’t make the final edit was the infamous "snake gun," a weapon that Joe Dietsch, the chief executive officer and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was born from a child’s off‑hand suggestion. "My teammate’s son asked, ‘What if there was a snake‑shooting gun?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool that let us spin up a new weapon in under thirty minutes, so I built it on the fly. 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 survival title where players can recruit followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult empire. The game’s development philosophy mirrors this spontaneity. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, explains that the studio set out to be “disruptors.” "We told everyone we could build a AAA‑quality experience with just twelve people.

Most people laughed, saying it was impossible," he says. Their confidence stems from a background in low‑budget, high‑impact indie filmmaking, where they learned to punch well above their weight. After 80 pitches, the team finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving them the financial runway to pursue their vision.

Wolf Haus’s leadership is steeped in Hollywood pedigree. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson—son of actor‑director Mel Gibson—who later co‑founded the studio. Together they co‑wrote and co‑directed the indie features Happy Hunting and Manifest West.

Abbott, the son of veteran makeup artist Larry Abbott, helped launch Ascendant Pictures, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to the Star Citizen universe, and later produced movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. The seed of Join Us sprouted when Dietsch began experimenting with Unreal Engine. "Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt there was a huge barrier to actually creating something," he explains. He taught himself through YouTube tutorials, built a few modest prototypes, and eventually fixated on a doomsday cult simulator that blended survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics.

The result was a proof‑of‑concept demo that he showed to Abbott, who then introduced it to Dooma, a production partner. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s chief financial officer and narrative director, brings a unique blend of film and tech experience.

He began his career as a screenwriter and producer before moving into games in the early 2000s, founding Sekretagent Productions, which supplied narrative work for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. In the 2010s he launched several tech ventures, most notably Ebbu, a cannabis‑formulation company sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million). After that windfall, he bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire.

Yet a call from his old Hollywood‑Hill roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back into game development when he saw Dietsch’s demo and was “blown away.” Wendschuh then recruited Reid Schneider—former Warner Bros. Games VP and current head of Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet—as a strategic advisor, and brought on Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer. With this core in place, the studio turned its attention to financing.

Pitching began in summer 2023, a period marked by a broader industry downturn. "People liked what we were building but the market was tight," Dietsch notes.

After initial outreach, the team signed with CAA in Los Angeles, re‑pitched in 2024, and finally closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. The CAA connection proved pivotal; the agency also represents high‑profile titles such as 007: First Light, and its veteran game agents, including Derek Douglas—who had represented Wendschuh during his twelve‑year game‑making career—helped open doors.

Despite the Hollywood pedigree, the studio remains remarkably lean: only 13 full‑time staff members are working on Join Us. "We wanted a small‑team culture where everyone has a voice and can touch every creative decision," says Dietsch. To make a large‑scale, high‑fidelity world possible with such a tiny crew, Wolf Haus invested heavily in custom tooling from day one.

"Any system in the game has to be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch explains. The first year of development was therefore split between designing gameplay concepts and building the internal tools that would let those concepts survive the complexity of an open‑world map.

This tool‑first mindset also aligns with the expectations of their equity investors. "Krafton and Lifelike want the studio to increase its enterprise value, so they support us in building robust tools," Wendschuh adds. The funding model allowed the team to self‑finance the entire development, using the investors’ equity stakes rather than external loans, and only turning to project finance for marketing later on.

When asked about the role of generative AI, the team is unequivocal: they do not employ it for any creative tasks. "We believe a human touch is essential for game development," Dietsch says. "We might use AI for mundane things like calendar management, but never for design, art, or narrative." Interestingly, Krafton—a company that has publicly rebranded itself as an "AI‑first" organization—specifically required that Wolf Haus refrain from using generative AI in the creative pipeline.

This stance mirrors that of Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio that publicly denied using AI for its projects. The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s massive six‑kilometre‑square map, which was built entirely by hand, and the 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors. "Even as a small indie, we felt it was vital to keep the experience authentic," Dietsch emphasizes. Dietsch also reflects on the differences between film and game creation.

In cinema, an idea can take years to reach the set, requiring approvals from directors, actors, and studios. In contrast, a game idea can be prototyped within hours, allowing immediate iteration. "You can have a concept in the morning, drop it into the engine, and see it in action that same day," he says, describing the exhilarating immediacy of interactive media.

Wendschuh adds that filmmaking is heavily front‑loaded: securing a high‑profile director or star is often the gatekeeper to a greenlight. While anyone can technically shoot a movie with a consumer‑grade camera, breaking through without big names or distribution is rare.

Game development, by contrast, has far fewer gatekeepers; a small team can release a polished product directly to players without needing A‑list talent. Both founders agree that the core creative drive is the same across mediums: 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 getting a camera for Christmas. I learned programming on a TI‑83, so I’ve always loved both," Dietsch reflects. "Whether it’s a film or a game, you’re trying to tell a story, engage an audience, and give them something memorable.

The tools have changed, but the intent remains the same."