The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulation. In the clip, robed followers zip around on pigs, wielding machine guns, before the screen fades to massive, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the edit was the infamous snake‑gun, a weapon that Joe Dietsch—CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games—credits to a spontaneous suggestion from a team member’s child.
"His son asked, ‘What if there’s a snake gun?’" Dietsch recalls. "Because we had a modular gun system, I could prototype a snake‑shooting weapon in about thirty minutes. The kid went nuts, and we kept it in the final build." This anecdote captures the chaotic, tongue‑in‑cheek style that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to a 1970s‑style cult.
It also highlights the studio’s technology‑first philosophy, which has enabled a high‑fidelity, large‑scale title to be built by a surprisingly small crew. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors. We told everyone we could pull off a game of this scope with just twelve people. Most people laughed and said it was impossible." Their confidence stems from a background in low‑budget, high‑impact indie filmmaking, where they learned to "punch above their weight." After an arduous 80‑pitch marathon, the team finally secured equity funding 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—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 banner founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to the Star Citizen universe. Abbott also produced films such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx.
Join Us originated from Dietsch’s early tinkering in Unreal Engine. "I discovered Unreal was free to download and thought, ‘Why is it so hard for anyone to start making games?’" he says.
He taught himself through YouTube tutorials, built a few modest prototypes, and eventually gravitated toward a doomsday‑cult simulation—a concept that married his love of survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, showed it to Abbott, and the duo began pitching the idea to investors.
The financial side of the venture was steered by Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s CFO and narrative director. Wendschuh began his career as a film producer and screenwriter 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. He later built several tech companies, most notably the cannabis‑formulation firm Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million (about $330 million USD).
After a brief retirement on a remote Canadian island, a call from his old Hollywood‑hill roommate Michael Abbott lured him back into the industry, and he quickly became enamored with the Join Us demo. Wendschuh recruited Reid Schneider—former Warner Bros.
Games vice president and current head of Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet—as a strategic advisor. Schneider, in turn, brought on Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer. By the summer of 2023, the core team was assembled, but securing capital proved challenging amid a broader industry downturn.
The studio’s partnership with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) and the involvement of seasoned veterans helped them navigate a second round of pitches in 2024, ultimately landing a seed round from Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Despite the high‑profile backers, Wolf Haus deliberately kept its staff lean—13 full‑time members at the time of writing. Dietsch explains that the small‑team model was a conscious choice: "We wanted everyone to have a voice, to touch the creative process, and to feel ownership over the final product." To make such an ambitious open‑world possible, the studio invested heavily in internal tooling from day one. "If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single developer," he notes.
The first year of development was therefore split between ideating gameplay and building the pipelines that would sustain it as the world expanded. Funding from Krafton and Lifelike allowed Wolf Haus to self‑finance the entire development cycle, with only a modest amount of project finance earmarked for marketing. "Because our investors hold equity, they’re motivated to see the studio increase in enterprise value," says Wendschuh.
"That means they support our tool‑building ethos, even if it slows short‑term progress, because it enables us to create a game of this magnitude with a tiny crew." When asked about the role of generative AI—a hot topic in game development—the team was unequivocal: they do not use it for creative work. "Our process is fundamentally human‑driven," Dietsch asserts.
"We might use AI for scheduling or email drafts, but never for art, design, or narrative." Krafton, which has publicly positioned itself as an "AI‑first" company, actually required Wolf Haus to refrain from using generative AI in the game's creation. This mirrors a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio, which publicly denied involvement in Krafton’s AI pivot. Wendschuh stresses that the studio values the human element: "We respect creative professionals and don’t want AI to replace voice actors or artists.
The six‑kilometre‑square map in Join Us is handcrafted, and all 15,000 voice lines were recorded by real actors." Dietsch reflects on the contrast between film and game development. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, often requiring the approval of high‑profile talent and studios before production even begins. By contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours, allowing immediate iteration.
"You can have an idea at breakfast and see it in the engine by lunch," he says, describing the exhilarating immediacy that drew him back to interactive media. Wendschuh adds that film production is heavily front‑loaded: securing a director, cast, and financing before shooting can take months, if not years.
While anyone can technically shoot a low‑budget film with a backyard camera, breaking through without marquee names or distribution is rare. Game development, however, presents fewer gatekeepers; a small indie can reach a global audience without needing an A‑list star or studio backing. Both mediums, though, share a core creative impulse: storytelling and evoking emotion.
"When I was six, I wanted to make games or movies; it came down to a coin toss and maybe getting a camera for Christmas," Dietsch muses. He taught himself programming on a TI‑83 calculator, a hobby that laid the groundwork for his dual‑discipline career. Ultimately, whether through film or interactive experiences, the goal remains the same—to craft an engaging narrative that resonates with an audience.
Join Us stands as a testament to what a tightly knit, technically adept team can achieve without relying on generative AI or massive staffing. By leveraging Hollywood experience, savvy financing, and a relentless focus on tool development, Wolf Haus has turned a wildly eccentric concept into a fully realized, high‑budget‑looking cult simulator—all while keeping the team size comparable to a small indie studio. The result is a game that feels both grand in scope and intimate in its handcrafted details, promising players a uniquely chaotic and humorous journey into the world of modern cult leadership.