The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulator. In the clip, robed cultists ride on pigs, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with an ominous image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One detail that didn’t make the final edit was the snake‑shooting weapon, a quirky addition that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, proudly recounts. “One of the developers’ kids asked, ‘What would a snake gun look like?’ We had a modular gun system that let us prototype a weapon in about thirty minutes.
I built a gun that fires actual snakes, and the kid was thrilled. It stayed in the game because it was that much fun.” That anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us.
The title is an open‑world sandbox survival game where players can recruit followers—or other players in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult. The gameplay is deliberately anarchic, encouraging absurdist strategies and over‑the‑top violence, all wrapped in a high‑fidelity visual package. Yet the entire experience is being assembled by an exceptionally small team, a fact that the studio’s leadership cites as a point of pride. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their philosophy: “We wanted to be disruptors.
Everyone told us a twelve‑person studio couldn’t deliver a game of this scope. We proved them wrong.” Their confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where small crews routinely punch far above their budgets. The studio endured eighty pitch meetings before finally securing equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which now hold stakes in Wolf Haus. The founders’ Hollywood connections 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 originally founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us originated from Dietsch’s early experiments in Unreal Engine.
“Unreal Engine was free to download, and I felt there was a massive barrier for anyone without a big studio to create something. I started watching YouTube tutorials and tinkering on my own,” he explains.
Though he had no formal training, Dietsch managed to ship a few modest titles before deciding to tackle a larger vision: a doomsday cult simulator that fused survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept prototype, showed it to Abbott, and the duo took the demo to Dooma, a partner studio.
Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s CFO and narrative director, entered the picture after a varied career that spanned film production, screenwriting, and video‑game narrative work. In the early 2000s he founded Sekretagent Productions, providing writing services 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 (US$330 million).
After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire. A sudden call from his old Hollywood‑hillroommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into game development, and he was instantly impressed by the Join Us demo. Wendschuh then recruited Reid Schneider, former vice‑president at Warner Bros. Games and current head of Raccoon Logic (the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet), as a strategic advisor.
Schneider brought in Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a veteran programmer from Ubisoft Montreal, to serve as chief technology officer. With this core group in place, the studio turned its attention to funding—a task made more difficult by a broader industry downturn that began in 2023. The team’s first pitch cycle took place in the summer of that year. Although the concept generated enthusiasm, investors were cautious.
After aligning with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) in Los Angeles and refining their pitch deck, Wolf Haus returned to the market in 2024 and finally closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh notes that CAA’s representation, which also includes titles like 007: First Light, was instrumental, as was the presence of seasoned industry veterans on the advisory board.
Despite the high‑profile backing, the studio remains lean—only thirteen full‑time staff members at the time of writing. Dietsch emphasizes that this small‑team model is intentional: “We wanted everyone to have a voice, to touch the creative process, and to feel ownership of the final product.” To make such an ambitious open‑world title feasible with limited manpower, Wolf Haus invested heavily in custom tooling during the first year of development. “Any system in the game has to be scalable and debuggable by a single person,” Dietsch explains. The studio built a suite of in‑house tools that not only supported Join Us but also laid the groundwork for future projects.
The funding structure further enabled this approach. Because Krafton and Lifelike are equity partners, the money they contributed is treated as internal financing rather than external debt. This self‑funded model gave Wolf Haus the flexibility to spend months perfecting tools without the pressure of immediate revenue. “Equity investors care about long‑term enterprise value, so they support our tool‑centric ethos even if it slows short‑term development,” says Wendschuh.
When asked about the role of generative AI—a hot topic in game development—Dietsch gave a clear answer: none. “We believe a game should retain a human touch.
Hand‑crafting mechanics, art, and narrative is core to why we love making games. Using AI to replace that would defeat the purpose.” Wendschuh adds that the studio only uses AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting, never for creative work. Interestingly, Krafton, which has publicly positioned itself as an “AI‑first” company, explicitly required Wolf Haus not to rely on generative AI for game creation.
This mirrors a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio. The commitment to human‑crafted content extends to the game’s world and audio. The six‑kilometre‑square map is entirely hand‑modeled, and the 15,000 voice lines were recorded by real actors, not synthetic voices. Dietsch stresses that preserving this level of craftsmanship was non‑negotiable, even for a small indie studio.
Transitioning from film to games also gave Dietsch a fresh perspective on creative immediacy. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize: a script is written, financing is secured, casting is arranged, and finally the cameras roll. In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours. “You can think of an idea this morning, drop it into the engine by noon, and instantly see it in action.
That rapid feedback loop is exhilarating,” he says. Wendschuh notes that filmmaking is heavily front‑loaded, requiring the involvement of high‑profile talent to greenlight a project. While anyone can technically shoot a film with a consumer‑grade camera, breaking through without star power or distribution is rare.
Game development, however, faces fewer gatekeepers; a small team can release a polished product directly to players without needing A‑list actors or directors. This democratization is a key reason why Wolf Haus believes a twelve‑person studio can compete with much larger developers.
Both Dietsch and Wendschuh agree that the core motivation behind movies and games is the same: to tell a story, create an experience, and engage an audience. Dietsch reflects on his childhood ambition, recalling how a coin toss between a camera and a game console set his path. He learned programming on a TI‑83 calculator, and that early fascination has evolved into a career that bridges two storytelling mediums.
In summary, Join Us represents a bold experiment: a high‑production‑value, open‑world cult simulator built by a tiny, Hollywood‑infused team that deliberately shuns generative AI in favor of handcrafted artistry. By leveraging deep industry connections, strategic equity funding, and a heavy investment in custom tools, Wolf Haus has shown that size isn’t the only determinant of ambition.
The game is slated for release later this year, and its success could further validate the notion that a small, focused crew can deliver experiences traditionally reserved for studios with hundreds of employees.