You may remember seeing the Join Us trailer during the Xbox Showcase in June. The clip introduced a darkly humorous cooperative cult‑simulation, where cloaked followers ride on pigs, wield machine guns, and the finale hints at colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.
What didn’t make it onto the screen was the infamous snake‑gun, a quirky weapon that, according to Wolf Haus Games’ CEO and creative director Joe Dietsch, was born from a simple suggestion by a team member’s son. “The kid asked, ‘What would a snake gun look like?’ We had a modular weapon system that let us spin up new guns in minutes, so I whipped up a snake‑shooter in about half an hour. The kid went nuts, and the gun stayed in the final build,” Dietsch recalls.
That anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival title where players can recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult empire. Beyond the off‑the‑wall gameplay, the project showcases the studio’s tech‑first philosophy, which has enabled a high‑fidelity, large‑scale experience to be built by a remarkably small crew.
Wolf Haus COO Michael Abbott summed up their ambition: “We wanted to be disruptors. We told ourselves we could deliver a AAA‑ish game with just twelve people. Everyone else thought we were crazy.” Their confidence stems from a history of punching above their weight in the indie film world, where limited budgets are the norm.
After an exhaustive 80‑pitch marathon, Wolf Haus finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in the studio. The founding trio brings deep Hollywood pedigree to the table. 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 his transition to Star Citizen.
Abbott’s résumé also includes producing credits on movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us traces its roots to Dietsch’s early experiments in Unreal Engine.
“I discovered that Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt the barrier to creation was huge,” he explains. He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, built a few modest prototypes, and eventually gravitated toward a doomsday‑cult concept that merged his love of survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. The resulting proof‑of‑concept was handed to Abbott, who then introduced it to Dooma, a partner that helped refine the vision. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s CFO and narrative director, entered the picture after a varied career spanning film production, screenwriting, and video‑game writing.
He founded 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 the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which later sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million).
After that windfall, 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 the industry.
“I watched the demo Joe sent me, and it blew my mind. I couldn’t stay retired,” he says. Wendschuh then recruited Reid Schneider—a former Warner Bros. Games VP now heading Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet—as a strategic advisor.
Schneider brought on Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer. With this core in place, the team turned to funding. The 2023‑24 market slump made the process arduous; despite the game’s obvious appeal, investors were cautious. Wolf Haus eventually partnered with CAA for representation, which opened doors to additional pitches and ultimately secured seed financing from Lifelike Capital and Krafton.
The studio’s modest size—thirteen full‑time staff—has been a deliberate choice. “We wanted a tight‑knit environment where everyone’s voice matters and everyone can touch the creative core,” Dietsch notes. To make a sprawling open‑world game feasible with such a lean crew, the team invested heavily in custom tooling from day one.
“Any system we build must be scalable and debuggable by a single developer,” he explains. The first year of development was therefore split between ideating gameplay and constructing the underlying toolchain, a strategy that also future‑proofs the studio for subsequent projects.
Funding from Krafton and Lifelike has been largely equity‑based, allowing Wolf Haus to self‑finance development while using a modest amount of project finance for marketing. This structure aligns investor incentives with the studio’s long‑term value creation and supports their tool‑centric ethos. “When we hit a problem we don’t know how to solve, we simply build a tool for it.
It may slow us down in the short term, but it lets a tiny team achieve something massive,” Wendschuh says. In an era where many studios tout generative‑AI shortcuts, Wolf Haus has taken a contrary stance. “We don’t use generative AI for any creative work,” Dietsch declares. “Our game is built by human hands; that’s why we get up every morning.” The team does employ AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting, but nothing that touches art, design, or narrative.
Interestingly, Krafton—publicly branding itself as an “AI‑first” company—specifically required that Wolf Haus avoid AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Krafton‑owned Neon Giant. The commitment to human craftsmanship extends to the game’s massive six‑kilometre‑square map and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by real actors.
Dietsch emphasizes that even as an indie title, preserving a human touch was non‑negotiable. He contrasts this with the film industry’s lengthy, gate‑kept development cycles. “In movies, you can spend years just to get a script approved, secure A‑list talent, and finally shoot. In games, you can prototype an idea in a morning, drop it into the engine, and see it instantly.
That immediacy is exhilarating.” Wendschuh adds that while film production is front‑loaded with high‑stakes negotiations and massive budgets, games offer a lower barrier to entry. “Anyone can rent a camera and shoot a backyard movie, but without star power or distribution, success is unlikely.
In games, the gatekeepers are fewer, and a small team can reach a global audience without A‑list names.” Both agree that the core creative impulse—telling a story, delivering an experience—remains the same across mediums, a realization that guided their pivot from cinema to interactive entertainment. In summary, Wolf Haus’s Join Us stands as a testament to what a small, tightly‑aligned team can achieve when they blend Hollywood storytelling instincts, entrepreneurial tech development, and a firm belief in human‑centric creation.
By eschewing generative AI, investing in bespoke tools, and leveraging industry connections, they have built a sprawling, quirky cult simulator that promises both chaotic fun and a glimpse into the future of indie‑driven, high‑ambition game development.