The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator where robed followers ride pig‑back and unleash machine‑gun fire before the screen fades to a massive, Cthulhu‑like mass of tentacles. One element that didn’t make the final cut was the infamous "snake gun," a quirky weapon that, according to Joe Dietsch—CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games—originated from a child’s off‑hand suggestion.

"My team member’s son asked, ‘What would a snake‑gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool, so in about thirty minutes I built a gun that actually fires snakes. He was blown away, and we kept it in the game," Dietsch recalls. That anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op mode—to join a 1970s‑style cult. It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a relatively tiny crew to develop a high‑fidelity, large‑scale title.

Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors. We told everyone, ‘We don’t need a hundred‑person studio; twelve people can do this.’ Most people thought we were crazy." The team’s confidence stems from a history of punching far above their weight.

Coming from indie‑film backgrounds, they are accustomed to delivering big‑impact projects on shoestring budgets. After 80 pitches, they finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in Wolf Haus. Wolf Haus’s founders have deep roots in Hollywood. 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, a production company founded by Chris Roberts before his Star Citizen venture. Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx.

Join Us began as a side project for Dietsch, who was tinkering with Unreal Engine simply because it was free to download. "I’d loved games forever, but the barrier to actually create something felt huge.

I started learning Unreal from YouTube tutorials and built a few tiny prototypes," he explains. Though he had no formal game‑dev experience, he eventually crafted a small demo that combined survival mechanics with grindhouse‑style cult horror—a concept that fused his cinematic tastes with interactive design. The proof‑of‑concept impressed Abbott, who then presented it to Dooma, the studio that would later become a strategic partner. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, had begun his career as a film producer and screenwriter before moving into games in the early 2000s, contributing writing to titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins.

He later founded several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for C$430 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. "I watched the demo Joe sent me and it blew my mind.

It convinced me to come out of retirement," Wendschuh says. He then introduced Reid Schneider—former Warner Bros.

Games VP and now head of Raccoon Logic—to serve as strategic advisor, and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer. With a core team forming, the next hurdle was financing.

The group began pitching in summer 2023, a period marked by a broader industry downturn. Despite positive reactions to the concept, securing capital proved difficult.

The studio eventually partnered with CAA for representation, re‑pitched in 2024, and closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh credits the CAA connection and the presence of seasoned veterans like Schneider and Chartrand for the eventual success. Even with only 13 full‑time staff, Wolf Haus has managed to keep the project on track by investing heavily in internal tools.

"Every system must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," says Dietsch. The first year of development was split between ideating gameplay and building the underlying toolset, a strategy that ensures the open‑world map can grow without collapsing under its own weight.

The equity funding model gave the studio the runway to perfect these tools. "Krafton and Lifelike’s investment finances the game directly, making it essentially self‑funded. We’ve only taken a small amount of project finance for marketing," explains Wendschuh. This structure aligns investor incentives with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the team to keep building reusable tools even if it slows immediate progress.

When asked about generative AI—a hot topic in game development—Dietsch gave a blunt 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 every morning," he says.

Wendschuh adds that while the team may use AI for mundane tasks like calendar management, it never touches the artistic side of production. Krafton, despite branding itself as an "AI‑first" company, actually required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio.

"Our investors wanted to be sure we weren’t relying on AI to replace voice actors or artists," notes Wendschuh. Accordingly, the six‑kilometre‑square map in Join Us is handcrafted, and the game’s 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human performers. Dietsch highlights a key advantage of games over film: immediacy.

In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring countless approvals and a long production schedule. In games, an idea can be prototyped in a morning, inserted into the engine, and instantly visualised.

This rapid feedback loop energises developers and allows for iterative creativity that film rarely offers. Wendschuh observes that filmmaking is front‑loaded with high‑stakes negotiations for A‑list talent and studio green‑lights, whereas games face far fewer gatekeepers.

"Anyone can rent a camera and shoot a backyard movie, but without big names or distribution, success is unlikely. In games, you don’t need an A‑list actor or director to break through," he explains. Both mediums, however, share a common creative impulse: storytelling and experience design. Dietsch reflects on his childhood, torn between making movies and games, and notes that a simple coin toss and a Christmas camera set his path.

He learned programming on a TI‑83 calculator, blending technical skill with narrative passion. "Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re trying to give someone an experience, tell a story, and engage them.

That core mission stays the same," he concludes.