The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator. In the preview, robed followers charge on pig‑back while firing machine guns, culminating in a shot of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.
What didn’t make the cut, according to Joe Dietsch—CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games—was the infamous "snake gun." "One of the developers’ kids suggested, ‘What if there’s a gun that shoots snakes?’" Dietsch recalls. "We had a modular weapon system, so within half an hour I built a snake‑shooting gun. The kid was blown away, and the weapon stayed in the final build." That anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit of Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival title 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 tiny team to produce a high‑fidelity experience that would normally require dozens of developers. "We set out to be disruptors," says Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer. "We told everyone, ‘We can deliver this with twelve people.’ Most people thought we were crazy." The team’s confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where they learned to achieve big ambitions on shoestring budgets.
"We come from the indie film world and are used to punching well above our weight," Abbott explains. After 80 pitches, the studio finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving Wolf Haus the financial runway to finish the game.
Wolf Haus’s founding members 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, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before his shift to Star Citizen.
Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us originated from Dietsch tinkering with Unreal Engine. "Unreal Engine is free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt the barrier to creating one was huge," he says. He began learning through YouTube tutorials, eventually building a few small prototypes.
The concept that stuck with him was a doomsday cult simulator that fused survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics—a hybrid of his favorite film and game tropes. He created a proof‑of‑concept demo, expecting to hit a technical wall at some point. When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter recognized its potential and presented it to Dooma, a partner that helped push the project forward.
Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, had previously worked as a film producer and screenwriter before transitioning to games in the early 2000s. He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing writing services for titles such as Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later, he built several tech ventures, including the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million. 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. "I was looking at the game Joe had made and it blew my mind, so I came out of retirement," Wendschuh says. He introduced the project to Reid Schneider, former VP at Warner Bros. Games and now head of 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—particularly challenging during the industry downturn of 2023‑24. The studio pitched repeatedly, eventually enlisting CAA (Creative Artists Agency) as representation.
"CAA’s connections, plus the credibility of veterans like Schneider and Chartrand, opened doors," Dietsch notes. The seed round from Lifelike Capital and Krafton finally arrived, allowing the studio to continue development without compromising its vision.
Wolf Haus deliberately kept its staff lean—13 full‑time employees at the time of writing. This small‑team philosophy ensures that every member has a voice and can directly influence the creative direction. To make such an ambitious open‑world game feasible, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling early on. "Every system must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch explains.
"We built a toolkit that lets us expand features across a massive map without the project collapsing under its own weight. The first year was as much about building those tools as it was about designing gameplay." The equity funding model gave Wolf Haus the breathing room to perfect its pipeline. "Krafton and Lifelike funded the development directly, so the game is essentially self‑funded," says Wendschuh.
"We’re now adding a modest amount of project finance for marketing, but the core development was covered by our investors." One of the investors’ stipulations was a firm stance against generative AI in the creative process, despite Krafton’s recent branding as an "AI‑first" company. "Our backers wanted to be sure we weren’t relying on AI to generate content," Wendschuh confirms. The studio uses AI only for administrative tasks like calendar management and email drafting, never for art, design, or writing. "We believe a human touch is essential for a game like this," Dietsch adds.
The six‑kilometre‑square map is hand‑crafted, and the 15,000 voice lines were recorded by real actors, underscoring the team’s commitment to handcrafted authenticity. Dietsch finds the immediacy of game development far more rewarding than film.
In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring approvals, casting, and extensive pre‑production. In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped in a single morning, placed into the engine, and instantly visualized. This rapid feedback loop fuels the studio’s iterative approach. Wendschuh points out that while film production is heavily front‑loaded—requiring star power and studio green‑lights before any shooting begins—games have far fewer gatekeepers.
"Anyone can make a game with a modest budget, whereas a movie without big names or distribution rarely finds success," he observes. This democratization aligns with Wolf Haus’s ethos: a small, passionate team can deliver a unique, fully realized experience without relying on celebrity endorsements. Reflecting on his childhood, Dietsch says the decision between movies and games was almost a coin toss.
He grew up programming on a TI‑83 calculator and received a camera for Christmas, nurturing parallel passions. "Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re telling a story, creating an experience, and engaging an audience," he concludes. "The medium changes, but the creative impulse stays the same."