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 clip, robed followers charge on pig‑mounted platforms, wielding machine guns before the scene cuts to a monstrous, Cthulhu‑like mass of tentacles. One element that didn’t make the final edit was the infamous “snake gun,” a quirky weapon that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, proudly attributes to a spontaneous idea from a team member’s child. "His son asked, ‘What if there’s a gun that shoots snakes?’" Dietsch recalls.
"Because we had built a modular weapon system, I was able to prototype a snake‑shooting gun in about thirty minutes. The kid was thrilled, and the weapon stayed in the game." This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival game where players can recruit followers—or other players in co‑op mode—to join a 1970s‑style cult. It also highlights the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has enabled a relatively small crew to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a much larger staff. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, explains the team’s philosophy: "We wanted to be disruptors.
The industry assumes you need a hundred‑person studio to build something ambitious. We argued that twelve talented people could do it, and everyone thought we were naïve." Their confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where budgets are tight and creativity must stretch far beyond the resources available.
Abbott notes that the team completed roughly 80 pitch meetings before finally securing equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which now hold stakes in Wolf Haus. The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University, where he met Louie Gibson—son of actor 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 transition to the Star Citizen project.
Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx. These connections gave the team a unique blend of cinematic storytelling and production savvy that they have transplanted into game development.
Join Us originated from Dietsch’s early experiments in Unreal Engine. "Unreal Engine is free to download, and that removed a huge barrier for me," he says. Having been a lifelong gamer and film enthusiast, Dietsch began learning the engine through YouTube tutorials, eventually creating a handful of small prototypes.
The concept that stuck with him was a doomsday cult simulator—a mash‑up of survival mechanics, grindhouse cinema aesthetics, and the communal storytelling he loved in both movies and games. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, expecting it to hit a technical wall quickly.
When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter recognized its potential and introduced it to Dooma, a production partner. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, had previously worked as a screenwriter and producer 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.
Wendschuh later founded 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, in classic Hollywood fashion, a call from his old roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into the industry. "I was watching a video of Joe’s prototype and it blew my mind," Wendschuh says, prompting him to leave retirement and join the project. He brought on Reid Schneider—formerly a vice‑president at Warner Bros.
Games and now head of Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet—as a strategic advisor, and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer. With the core team assembled, the next hurdle was financing. The studio began pitching in the summer of 2023, a period marked by a broader industry downturn. Despite the challenging climate, the team’s pitch resonated enough to earn representation from Creative Artists Agency (CAA) in Los Angeles.
After a second round of pitches in 2024, they closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh credits CAA’s connections—particularly Derek Douglas, who had represented him during his twelve‑year game‑development career—and the presence of veteran advisors for smoothing the path to funding. What truly sets Join Us apart is the scale of the project relative to the size of the studio. With only 13 full‑time employees, Wolf Haus has deliberately kept the team small to preserve a collaborative atmosphere where every voice matters.
Dietsch emphasizes that the team approached development with a clear understanding of scope, aiming to build tools that would let a handful of people manage a large, open‑world experience. "If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single developer," Dietsch explains.
"We invested heavily in a custom toolkit during the first year, essentially building the engine for the game while we were still conceptualizing it. This approach ensures that as the world expands, the underlying technology won’t collapse under its own weight." The funding model also gave the studio the runway to perfect these tools. Krafton and Lifelike’s equity investment allowed Wolf Haus to self‑fund the entire development process, with only a modest amount of project finance earmarked for marketing later on.
"Equity partners are incentivized to increase the studio’s enterprise value, so they support us in building extensive tooling," says Wendschuh. "Whenever we encounter a problem we don’t know how to solve, we build a tool for it. It may slow short‑term development, but it enables a tiny team to create something of this magnitude." In an industry where many studios are turning to generative AI to cut costs, Wolf Haus has deliberately steered clear of that route.
"We don’t use generative AI for any creative work," Dietsch states plainly. "Our process relies on human craftsmanship.
The only AI we employ is for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting." Even Krafton, which has branded itself an “AI‑first” company, insisted that Wolf Haus avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline. Wendschuh notes that the investors wanted assurance that the studio’s output would be wholly human‑generated, echoing similar statements from Krafton‑owned Neon Giant, which publicly denied using AI for its games. The commitment to a human‑first approach extends to the game’s assets. The six‑kilometer‑square map of Join Us was handcrafted, and all 15,000 voice lines were recorded by professional actors rather than synthetic voices.
"We felt that preserving a human touch was essential, even as an indie studio," says Dietsch. Comparing his experiences in film and games, Dietsch highlights the immediacy of game development. In film, a concept can take years to materialize, requiring approvals, casting, and extensive pre‑production. In contrast, a game idea can be prototyped within hours: "You can have an idea in the morning, drop it into the engine, see it instantly, and iterate on the spot.
That immediacy is exhilarating." Wendschuh adds that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with intense, short‑term bursts of activity on set after a long period of securing talent and financing. While anyone can technically shoot a low‑budget movie with a handheld camera, breaking through without star power or distribution is rare. Game development, on the other hand, has fewer gatekeepers; a small team can reach a global audience without needing A‑list actors or directors.
Both founders agree that the core creative drive—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 a Christmas camera," Dietsch reflects. "Whether you’re crafting a film or a game, you’re shaping an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience.
The tools change, but the purpose stays constant."