The trailer for Join Us made a splash during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator where robed followers ride pigs, unleash machine guns, and confront colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One element that didn’t appear in the teaser was the infamous snake gun, a feature that CEO and creative director Joe Dietsch of Wolf Haus Games proudly attributes to a spontaneous idea from a team member’s child. "His son asked, 'Can we have a snake‑shooting gun?'" Dietsch recalls.
"Because we had a modular weapon system, I was able to prototype a snake‑firing firearm in roughly thirty minutes. The kid was thrilled, and the weapon stayed in the final build." That anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival game where players can recruit AI followers or friends to join a retro‑styled 1970s cult.
It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a small crew to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally demand a much larger staff. "We set out to be disruptors," says Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer. "We told ourselves, ‘We don’t need a hundred developers; twelve will do.’ Everyone else thought we were crazy." The team’s confidence stems from a history of achieving big results on modest budgets.
"Our background is indie filmmaking, where you learn to punch well above your weight," Abbott explains. After 80 pitch meetings, Wolf Haus finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which now hold stakes in the studio. The founders bring deep Hollywood connections. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of Mel Gibson, who co‑writes and co‑directs with him on projects such as 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 he turned his attention to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced films like Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx.
Join Us originated from Dietsch’s tinkering in Unreal Engine. "Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt blocked by the steep entry barrier for creation," he says.
He learned the engine through YouTube tutorials, built a few small prototypes, and eventually gravitated toward a doomsday cult simulator concept that merged his passion for survival games with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, ran into technical roadblocks, and showed the result to Abbott, who then introduced the project to Dooma. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s CFO and narrative director, began his career as a film producer and screenwriter before transitioning to games in the early 2000s. He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative services for titles like 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 C$430 million (about $330 million USD). After selling Ebbu, 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: "Joe showed me a prototype of his game and it blew my mind, so I came out of retirement." Through Abbott’s network, Wendschuh connected with Reid Schneider, former Warner Bros. Games VP and current head of Raccoon Logic (Journey to the Savage Planet). Schneider joined as a strategic advisor and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer.
With a core team forming, the next hurdle was financing, which proved difficult amid a market downturn in 2023. "People liked what we were building but the timing was tough," Dietsch notes. After initial outreach, Wolf Haus enlisted CAA (Creative Artists Agency) as representation, re‑pitched in 2024, and finally closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton.
Wendschuh believes CAA’s clout—representing titles like 007: First Light—and the presence of seasoned veterans such as Schneider and Chartrand were decisive. "My agent Derek Douglas, who handled my game work for 12 years, also heads the video‑game department at William Morris," Wendschuh adds. Despite the high ambitions, Join Us is being built by just 13 full‑time staff. "We entered the project with a clear sense of scope and a desire to keep the team intimate, so every voice matters and everyone can touch the creative side," says Dietsch.
To make such a scope feasible, the studio invested heavily in internal tooling early on. "Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single person.
We built a robust toolkit so that as features proliferate across the open world, the project doesn’t collapse under its own weight. In fact, much of our first year was spent simultaneously designing gameplay and constructing the tools that would enable it." The equity funding model gave Wolf Haus the runway to perfect those tools. "Krafton and Lifelike’s investments have essentially self‑funded the development," explains Wendschuh. "We’re now adding a modest amount of project finance for marketing, but the core development has been covered by their equity." One notable aspect of the studio’s philosophy is its rejection of generative AI for creative work.
"We don’t use generative AI in game development because we value the human touch," Dietsch states plainly. "We have a few subscriptions for mundane tasks like calendar management, but nothing that influences design, art, or writing." Krafton, despite branding itself as an "AI‑first" company, actually required Wolf Haus to avoid AI‑driven content creation. "Our investors wanted assurance we weren’t relying on AI to produce the game," says Wendschuh, echoing a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, a Krafton‑owned studio that publicly denied using AI for its projects.
The team’s commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s massive six‑kilometre‑square map and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors. "Even as a small indie, we felt it was vital to keep that human element," Dietsch affirms.
Dietsch also highlights a key advantage of games over film: immediacy. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring extensive approvals and scheduling. In game development, an inspiration can be prototyped in a matter of hours, allowing creators to see and iterate on their vision instantly. "You can have an idea this morning, drop it into the engine, and see it live the same day," he says.
Wendschuh points out that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with intense, high‑stakes set work that often depends on securing a handful of A‑list talent to obtain studio backing. While anyone can technically shoot a backyard movie, breaking through without big names or distribution is rare.
By contrast, the barriers to entry for games are lower, making successful indie launches more attainable. "You don’t need an A‑list actor or director to get a game funded and released," he notes. Both founders agree that the core creative drive—telling stories and delivering experiences—remains the same across mediums. "When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games; it boiled down to a coin toss and maybe a camera for Christmas," Dietsch reflects.
"I learned to program on a TI‑83, so games have always been part of me. Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re crafting an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience. The medium changes, but the intention stays constant."