The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulation where robed followers zip around on pigs, fire machine guns, and conclude with a shot of Cthulhu‑like tentacles looming overhead. What didn’t make the cut was the infamous snake gun, a quirky weapon that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was born from a child’s imagination. According to Dietsch, one of the developers’ sons asked, “What would a snake gun look like?” Armed with a rapid‑prototyping tool, Dietsch spent roughly thirty minutes building a firearm that launches serpents. The result delighted the kid and earned a permanent spot in the game, exemplifying the off‑the‑wall gameplay Join Us promises.
Join Us is an open‑world sandbox survival experience that lets players recruit followers—or fellow players in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult. The title’s chaotic tone mirrors the development philosophy of its creators: a small, tech‑savvy team determined to prove that a high‑fidelity, large‑scale game can emerge from a modest roster.
Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed it up: “We wanted to be disruptors. We told everyone we could build this with twelve people, and they laughed.” The team’s confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where they learned to “punch above their weight.” After 80 pitches, they finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in Wolf Haus. The founders’ Hollywood credentials run deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of Mel Gibson, who later co‑founded Wolf Haus and co‑wrote and co‑directed the indie films 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 shift to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us originated from Dietsch’s experimentation with Unreal Engine. “Unreal was free to download, and I’d been a gamer forever, but the barrier to actually creating something felt huge,” he explains.
He taught himself through YouTube tutorials, eventually crafting a few small prototypes 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 demo, assuming it would soon hit a technical wall. When he showed it to Abbott, the latter took the concept to Dooma, a partner who helped refine the pitch. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s CFO and narrative director, began his career as a film producer and screenwriter before moving into games in the early 2000s.
He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative work for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later he launched several tech ventures, including the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (about $330 million). After cashing out, 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 development. Wendschuh was impressed by Dietsch’s demo and re‑entered the industry, bringing on Reid Schneider—former Warner Bros. Games VP and now head of Raccoon Logic—as a strategic advisor. Schneider recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer.
With the core team assembled, the next hurdle was financing. Pitching began in summer 2023 amid an industry downturn, making investors cautious. After initial outreach, Wolf Haus partnered with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) and resumed pitching in 2024, eventually closing a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh credits CAA’s representation and the presence of seasoned veterans like Schneider and Chartrand for the successful raise.
Despite the high‑profile backing, the studio remains lean: only 13 full‑time staff members. Dietsch emphasizes that the small size is intentional, allowing everyone to have a voice and directly shape the creative direction. To make such an ambitious project feasible, the team invested heavily in internal tooling from day one. “Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single person,” Dietsch notes.
The first year of development was split between ideating gameplay and building the pipelines that would keep the open‑world map from collapsing under its own weight. Funding from Krafton and Lifelike is structured as equity, meaning the game is essentially self‑funded.
The studio can allocate resources to tool development without pressure to cut corners, because investors benefit from the studio’s increased enterprise value. This philosophy leads the team to build a custom solution whenever they encounter a problem, even if it slows short‑term progress. When asked about generative AI, Dietsch gives a clear answer: the studio does not use it for creative work.
“We believe a human touch is essential. Turning development over to an AI would defeat why we get up each morning,” he says. Wendschuh adds that the only AI tools they employ are mundane ones for scheduling and email.
Interestingly, Krafton—positioned as an “AI‑first” company—explicitly discouraged Wolf Haus from using generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio. The team’s commitment to hand‑crafted content is evident. The six‑kilometre‑square map is entirely built by hand, and the game features roughly 15,000 voice lines recorded by human actors, not synthetic voices.
Dietsch reflects on the contrast between film and games. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring approvals and big‑name talent to secure a greenlight. By contrast, a game concept can be prototyped in a single morning, placed into the engine, and instantly visualized. This immediacy, he argues, lowers the gatekeeping barrier dramatically.
While anyone can technically shoot a backyard movie, breaking into the film market without star power is rare. In the gaming world, a small indie can achieve success without A‑list actors or directors, thanks to the medium’s more open distribution channels.
Both mediums, however, share a common creative impulse: storytelling and immersive experience. Dietsch recalls that as a six‑year‑old he wanted to make either movies or games, and a simple coin toss—plus receiving a camera for Christmas—set him on his path. He learned programming on a TI‑83 calculator, cementing a lifelong love for both crafts.
Ultimately, whether through film or interactive play, the goal remains the same: to engage an audience, tell a compelling story, and deliver an unforgettable experience.