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 followers zip around on pig‑back while firing machine guns, culminating in a shot of massive, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.
What didn’t make the final cut was the infamous "snake gun," a weapon that originated from an off‑hand comment by a team member’s son. Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, recounted the moment: the youngster asked, “Can there be a snake gun?” Using an in‑house scaling tool, Dietsch whipped up a functional snake‑shooting weapon in roughly thirty minutes, and the quirky armament survived into the finished product. That anecdote captures the chaotic, sandbox‑style gameplay that Join Us promises. Players will build and lead a 1970s‑inspired cult, recruiting both AI followers and co‑op friends to explore an open‑world survival landscape.
Yet the game’s most striking feature isn’t just its eccentric premise; it’s how a tiny crew managed to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a studio of dozens. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up the team’s philosophy: “We wanted to be disruptors. We told everyone we could deliver a AAA‑level experience with just twelve people, and most people thought we were insane.” Their confidence stemmed from a background in indie filmmaking, where small budgets often demand creative shortcuts.
After 80 pitches, the studio finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving Wolf Haus the financial runway to bring Join Us to life. The founders’ Hollywood connections run deep.
Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson—son of Mel Gibson—and the two co‑wrote and co‑directed the indie features Happy Hunting and Manifest West. Abbott is the son of renowned makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to Star Citizen.
Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. These film‑industry pedigrees helped shape Wolf Haus’s cinematic sensibility. Join Us began as a personal experiment in Unreal Engine.
Dietsch discovered the engine was free to download and, after learning the basics from YouTube tutorials, built a series of small prototypes. He soon gravitated toward a “doomsday cult simulator” concept that merged survival mechanics with grindhouse‑style horror—a direct homage to the movies he loved.
The initial proof‑of‑concept was presented to Abbott, who then took it to Dooma, a partner studio that helped refine the vision. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s CFO and narrative director, entered the picture after a varied career that spanned screenwriting for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins, as well as founding a cannabis‑formulation company that sold for C$430 million. He retired to a remote Canadian island, only to be pulled back into development when a former roommate, Michael Abbott, called about a video‑game prototype. Wendschuh was instantly impressed, and he introduced the project to Reid Schneider—ex‑Warner Bros.
Games VP and current head of Raccoon Logic—and to Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer who became Wolf Haus’s chief technology officer. Securing capital proved challenging amid an industry downturn. The team began pitching in summer 2023, initially receiving polite interest but little commitment.
After enlisting Creative Artists Agency (CAA) as representation and refining their pitch throughout 2024, they finally closed a seed round with Krafton and Lifelike Capital. Wendschuh credits CAA’s influence and the presence of seasoned veterans like Schneider and Chartrand for opening doors that might otherwise have remained shut. Despite the high‑profile backers, the studio remains intentionally lean—13 full‑time staff members at the time of writing.
Dietsch emphasizes that the small size is a deliberate choice to keep every voice heard and every team member involved in creative decisions. To make such an ambitious project feasible, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling from day one. "If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch explains. The first year of development was therefore split between ideating gameplay and building the underlying toolset, a strategy that also future‑proofs the studio for subsequent projects.
Funding from Krafton and Lifelike has been equity‑based, allowing Wolf Haus to self‑finance the bulk of development. The investors’ focus on long‑term enterprise value aligns with the studio’s ethos of building reusable tools rather than cutting corners. "Whenever we hit a problem we don’t know how to solve, we build a tool for it," says Wendschuh. While this approach can slow immediate progress, it empowers a tiny team to deliver a large‑scale experience without sacrificing quality.
One question that inevitably arises when a small studio produces a massive game is whether generative AI played a role. Both Dietsch and Wendschuh are categorical: the creative pipeline contains no generative‑AI‑generated assets. "We believe a human touch is essential," Dietsch says.
"Using AI to replace our artistic decisions would defeat the purpose of why we get up every morning to make games." The only AI tools they employ are mundane productivity assistants for scheduling and email—nothing that touches design, art, or narrative. Interestingly, Krafton, which markets itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative process, mirroring similar stances taken by other Krafton‑owned studios. The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s world and audio.
The six‑kilometer‑square map is entirely hand‑built, and all 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human actors, not synthetic voices. This dedication to artisanal production underscores the studio’s belief that authenticity matters, even for an indie title.
Dietsch also reflects on the differences between film and game creation. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, often dependent on securing high‑profile talent and studio approval.
In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped in a single morning and instantly tested in the engine. This immediacy, he argues, fuels his enthusiasm for interactive media. Wendschuh adds that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with massive logistical hurdles before shooting even begins, whereas games have fewer gatekeepers and can reach audiences without needing A‑list actors or directors.
Both founders agree that the core creative impulse—telling a story and delivering an experience—remains the same across mediums. Dietsch recalls that as a child he wanted to make either movies or games, and a simple coin toss (and a Christmas camera) set him on his current path. Today, Wolf Haus’s Join Us stands as a testament to what a small, tightly knit team can achieve when they blend Hollywood storytelling instincts, tech ingenuity, and a willingness to defy industry expectations.