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 charge on pig‑back while firing machine guns, culminating in a terrifying vision of Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One element that didn’t make the final cut was the infamous "snake gun," a quirky weapon that CEO and creative director Joe Dietsch says originated from a child’s off‑hand suggestion.
"My team member’s son asked, ‘What would a snake‑shooting gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool, so within about thirty minutes I built it. His reaction was pure awe, and we kept it in the game," Dietsch recalls.
This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us – an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers or invite friends into a 1970s‑style cult, all while navigating a survival‑oriented landscape. What makes the project even more remarkable is the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a relatively tiny crew to produce a high‑fidelity title. "We set out to be disruptors," says Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer. "We told ourselves we could build a game of this scope with just twelve people, and everyone else called us crazy." Their confidence stems from a history of achieving big results on lean budgets.
"Our roots are in indie filmmaking, where you learn to punch far above your weight," Abbott explains. After 80 pitch meetings, the studio finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in Wolf Haus. The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs 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 veteran makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before his shift to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us began as a hobby project for Dietsch in Unreal Engine. "Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt the barrier to creation was huge," he says.
He taught himself through YouTube tutorials, built a few tiny prototypes, and eventually gravitated toward a doomsday cult simulator that blended survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept, hit what he expected to be a technical wall, and shared the demo with Abbott, who then introduced it to Dooma. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s CFO and narrative director, started his career as a film producer and screenwriter before moving into games in the early 2000s.
He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing 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 C$430 million (about $330 million USD). After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, planning a quiet retirement. That retirement was short‑lived.
"Out of the blue, my old Hollywood‑hill roommate Michael Abbott called and said a friend had made a video game. I checked it out, it blew my mind, and I came out of retirement," Wendschuh recounts. He brought the game to Reid Schneider, former VP at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic, who joined as a strategic advisor.
Schneider 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—a daunting task during the industry downturn of 2023‑24. The studio pitched relentlessly, eventually partnering with CAA in Los Angeles and returning to the market in 2024. Their perseverance paid off when Lifelike Capital and Krafton closed a seed round, providing the capital needed to continue development.
Wendschuh credits the CAA connection and the presence of seasoned veterans like Schneider and Chartrand for opening doors that might otherwise have remained shut. Despite the high‑profile backers, Wolf Haus has remained a tight‑knit operation of just 13 full‑time staff. "We entered the project with a clear understanding of scope and a desire to keep the team small, so every voice matters and everyone touches the creative process," says Dietsch. To make a sprawling open‑world feasible for such a lean crew, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling from day one.
"Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single person. We built a toolkit that lets us expand features across a massive map without the project collapsing under its own weight," Dietsch explains. This tooling philosophy not only supports Join Us but also lays the groundwork for future Wolf Haus titles. The equity financing model gave the studio the runway to perfect these tools.
"Krafton and Lifelike’s investment is essentially self‑funding the game. We’re now adding a small amount of project finance for marketing, but the development itself has been covered by their equity stakes," Wendschuh notes. The investors’ alignment with the studio’s long‑term value creation encourages a culture of problem‑solving through in‑house tool creation, even if it slows immediate progress. When asked about generative AI—a hot topic in game development—both Dietsch and Wendschuh were unequivocal: Wolf Haus does not rely on AI for creative work.
"We believe a human touch is essential. Using an AI to generate core content would defeat why we get up each morning," Dietsch says. Wendschuh adds that the studio only uses AI for administrative tasks like calendar management and email drafting. Interestingly, Krafton, which publicly brands itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline, echoing similar statements from other Krafton‑owned studios.
The studio’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 the audio fully human," Dietsch emphasizes. Dietsch also reflects on the differences between filmmaking and game development. In film, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring approvals and the coordination of high‑profile talent.
In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours, allowing immediate iteration. "You can have an idea this morning, drop it into the engine, and see it in action the same day. That immediacy is exhilarating," he says.
Wendschuh points out that movies are front‑loaded with intense, high‑stakes production phases, often dependent on securing a few marquee names to obtain studio backing. While anyone can technically shoot a backyard movie, breaking through without established talent or distribution is rare. Games, however, have far fewer gatekeepers; a small team can reach a global audience without A‑list actors or directors. "The odds of a successful indie game are far higher than those of an indie film," he observes.
Both men agree that the core creative impulse—telling a story and delivering an experience—remains the same across mediums. "When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games. It came down to a coin toss and maybe getting a camera for Christmas.
I learned to program on a TI‑83, so I’ve always been drawn to both," Dietsch reflects. "Whether it’s a film or a game, the goal is to engage the audience, tell a story, and create an experience. That fundamental drive hasn’t changed."