The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, giving viewers a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator. In the clip, robed followers zip around on pigs, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with an image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.
One element that didn’t make the final cut of the trailer was the infamous “snake gun,” a weapon that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was born from a simple suggestion by a team member’s child. "His son asked, ‘What if we had a snake‑shooter?’" Dietsch recalls. "Because we had built a modular gun system that could be scaled in minutes, I threw together a prototype in about half an hour.
The kid went nuts, and we kept the weapon in the game." That anecdote encapsulates the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us. The title is an open‑world sandbox survival game where players can recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op mode—to join a 1970s‑style cult.
It also highlights the studio’s technology‑first philosophy, which has enabled a high‑fidelity, large‑scale experience to be built by a remarkably small crew. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, sums it up succinctly: "We set out to be disruptors. We told everyone we could build a AAA‑ish experience with just twelve people.
Most people laughed, but we proved them wrong." The team’s confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where doing more with less is the norm. "We grew up on low‑budget movies, learning to punch well above our weight," Abbott explains.
After a marathon of 80 pitches, the studio finally secured equity financing from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took minority stakes in Wolf Haus. Wolf Haus’s founders are steeped in Hollywood heritage. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University in California alongside Louie Gibson, the son of Mel Gibson, who later co‑founded the studio.
The two 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 he turned his attention 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.
"I discovered Unreal was free to download, and I’d spent my life watching movies and playing games, but the barrier to actually creating something felt huge," he says. He began learning through YouTube tutorials, eventually crafting a handful of small prototypes. The concept that stuck with him was a doomsday cult simulator that blended survival mechanics with grindhouse‑style cinema, merging his two biggest passions into a single intellectual property. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, assuming he would soon hit a technical wall that would force him to abandon the idea.
When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter immediately recognized its potential and presented it to Dooma, a partner studio. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, had previously worked as a producer and screenwriter in film before transitioning to games in the early 2000s. He founded Sekretagent Productions, which supplied narrative work 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 roughly C$430 million (US$330 million).
After cashing out, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire and spend his days walking his dog on the beach. Yet, in classic Hollywood fashion, an unexpected call from his old roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into the industry.
"I was looking at the video Joe sent me, and it completely blew my mind. I couldn’t stay retired," Wendschuh says. He introduced the project to Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros. Games vice‑president now heading Raccoon Logic, the studio behind 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 the core team in place, the next hurdle was funding—an especially tough task given the industry downturn of 2023‑24. The studio began pitching in the summer of 2023, initially without representation.
"People liked what they saw, but the market was cold," Dietsch notes. After securing representation from Creative Artists Agency (CAA) in Los Angeles, the team intensified its outreach and finally closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton in early 2024. Wendschuh believes the CAA connection was pivotal. "Our agent Derek Douglas had represented me for twelve years and had deep ties to the video‑game side of the agency," he explains.
The presence of seasoned veterans like Schneider and Chartrand also lent credibility that helped convince investors. What truly sets Join Us apart is the way it is being built: a full‑scale, open‑world title with only thirteen full‑time staff members.
Dietsch emphasizes that the small‑team model was a deliberate choice. "We wanted a studio where every voice mattered, where everyone could touch the creative core, and where the final product feels like the work of a tight‑knit group," he says. To achieve such ambition with limited manpower, Wolf Haus invested heavily in custom tooling from day one.
"Every system in the game had to be scalable and debuggable by a single developer," Dietsch explains. The studio spent the first year simultaneously designing gameplay concepts and constructing the internal toolset that would keep the project from collapsing under its own weight as the world expanded. The equity financing from Krafton and Lifelike allowed the studio to self‑fund development while preserving creative independence. "The investors are motivated to increase the studio’s enterprise value, so they support us in building extensive toolchains," Wendschuh says.
"When we encounter a problem we don’t know how to solve, we simply build a tool to fix it. It may slow us down in the short term, but it enables a tiny team to deliver a game of this scope." Despite the buzz around generative AI in game development, Wolf Haus deliberately shuns it for creative work.
"We believe a human touch is essential. Using AI to generate core content would defeat the reason we get up each morning," Dietsch asserts. Wendschuh adds that the studio only uses AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting, never for art, writing, or design.
Even Krafton, which publicly branded itself as an "AI‑first" company, insisted that Wolf Haus avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline. The Korean publisher wanted assurance that its equity stake would not be used to fund AI‑generated assets, echoing a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio. The team’s commitment to handcrafted content is evident in the game’s six‑kilometre‑square map, which was built entirely by hand, and the 15,000 voice lines recorded by real actors. "Those choices matter to us, even as a small indie," Wendschuh says.
Dietsch notes that the hand‑crafted approach aligns with the studio’s ethos of preserving jobs for voice talent and artists, rather than replacing them with synthetic alternatives. Dietsch also reflects on the differences between filmmaking and game development. In film, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring approvals, casting, and a massive budget before any footage is shot.
In contrast, a game idea can be prototyped within hours, allowing immediate iteration. "You can have a concept in the morning, drop it into the engine, and see it in action the same day. That immediacy is intoxicating," he says. Wendschuh points out that movies are heavily front‑loaded: securing A‑list talent and studio backing is often the biggest hurdle, whereas games have far fewer gatekeepers.
"Anyone can rent a camera and shoot a backyard film, but without big names or distribution, it’s hard to break through. A game, however, can reach a global audience without needing a Hollywood star," he explains. Both founders agree that the core creative impulse—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 whether I got a camera for Christmas," Dietsch laughs. "I learned to program on a TI‑83, so both paths have always felt natural. Whether you’re crafting a film or a game, you’re shaping an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience. The medium changes, but the mission stays the same."