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‑mounted vehicles, unleash machine‑gun fire, and ultimately confront colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One of the most memorable, yet omitted, moments was the appearance of a snake‑shooting weapon – a quirky addition that came about in an unexpected way.
According to Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, the idea originated from a team member’s son who simply asked, “Can there be a snake gun?” Leveraging a proprietary tool that allowed rapid weapon prototyping, Dietsch was able to construct a functional snake‑firing gun in roughly thirty minutes. The result delighted the youngster and earned a permanent place in the game. That anecdote encapsulates the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us.
The title is an open‑world sandbox survival experience set in a 1970s‑style cult environment. Players can recruit AI‑controlled followers or invite friends into co‑op sessions, building a bizarre community that balances absurdist humor with survival mechanics.
The game’s design philosophy mirrors the development team’s own approach: lean, inventive, and heavily tool‑driven. Wolf Haus operates with a remarkably small core staff – just twelve full‑time developers – yet they have managed to produce a high‑fidelity, large‑scale title that would traditionally require a studio of several dozen. Michael Abbott, the studio’s chief operating officer, explains that the team deliberately set out to be “disruptors.” He recalls the skepticism they faced: “Everyone told us it was impossible to build a game of this scope with only twelve people.” Their confidence, however, was rooted in a background of indie filmmaking, where limited budgets often demand creative problem‑solving and resourcefulness.
The team’s experience in punching above their weight helped them navigate 80 pitches before securing equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital. The founders bring deep Hollywood connections to the table. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of actor Mel Gibson, who now co‑foundes Wolf Haus.
Together they co‑wrote and co‑directed indie films such as Happy Hunting and Manifest West. Abbott, the son of veteran makeup artist Larry Abbott, helped launch Ascendant Pictures – a production company originally founded by Chris Roberts before his shift to Star Citizen – and later produced films like Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx.
These cinematic roots inform the studio’s narrative sensibility, blending grindhouse aesthetics with interactive gameplay. Join Us was born from Dietsch’s early experiments in Unreal Engine.
He recalls the moment he discovered the engine was free to download, breaking down a perceived barrier to entry for aspiring developers. By teaching himself through YouTube tutorials, he built a series of small prototypes before committing to a larger vision: a doomsday cult simulator that fused survival elements with the flamboyant style of grindhouse cinema. The proof‑of‑concept demo impressed Abbott, who then presented it to Dooma, a partner who helped refine the concept.
The studio’s narrative director and CFO, Dooma Wendschuh, adds another layer of industry expertise. He began his career as a film producer and screenwriter before transitioning to games in the early 2000s, providing writing services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins through his company Sekretagent Productions. Later, he founded several tech ventures, including the cannabis formulation firm Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million). After a brief retirement on a remote Canadian island, a call from his old Hollywood‑hill roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into development, ultimately leading him to bring on former Warner Bros.
Games VP Reid Schneider as a strategic advisor and ex‑Ubisoft Montreal programmer Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand as chief technology officer. Funding the project proved challenging amid a broader industry downturn. The team began pitching in the summer of 2023, receiving positive feedback but facing a cautious market. After enlisting representation from CAA in Los Angeles and re‑pitching in 2024, they secured seed financing from Lifelike Capital and Krafton.
Wendschuh notes that CAA’s connections, including representation of titles like 007: First Light, and the presence of seasoned veterans such as Schneider and Chartrand, were instrumental in closing the deal. Despite the modest headcount, Wolf Haus has maintained a collaborative, flat structure where every employee can influence creative decisions.
Dietsch emphasizes that the studio deliberately built tools early in development to ensure scalability. “If a system exists in the game, it must be debuggable and expandable by a single person,” he explains. This tooling philosophy meant that the first year of production was split between ideating gameplay and engineering the pipelines that would support a sprawling open world without collapsing under its own complexity. The equity funding model also allowed the studio to self‑finance the majority of development, reducing external pressure and enabling a focus on tool creation.
Krafton and Lifelike’s investments were used directly for production costs, with only a modest amount earmarked for marketing. This arrangement aligns investor incentives with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the continued development of in‑house tools that can be reused for future projects. When asked about the role of generative AI, the team is unequivocal: they do not employ it for creative work.
Dietsch argues that a human touch is essential to game development, and delegating creation to an algorithm would undermine the very passion that drives the team. Wendschuh adds that while they may use AI for administrative tasks like calendar management, it plays no part in design, art, or narrative. Interestingly, Krafton, which publicly positioned itself as an “AI‑first” company, explicitly required that Wolf Haus refrain from using generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring a broader industry caution about AI‑driven content. The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s massive six‑kilometre‑square map, which was built entirely by hand, and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors.
Dietsch believes this level of artisanal detail is vital, even for an indie‑scale title, as it preserves authenticity and emotional resonance. Comparing his experiences in film and games, Dietsch highlights the immediacy of interactive media. In film, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring approvals, casting, and extensive pre‑production. In contrast, a concept can be prototyped in a game engine within hours, allowing developers to see, test, and iterate on ideas almost instantly.
Wendschuh observes that while filmmaking is heavily front‑loaded—requiring high‑profile talent and studio green‑lights—games face fewer gatekeepers, making it easier for small teams to bring a product to market without star power. Both mediums share a core creative impulse: storytelling and evoking experiences for an audience. Dietsch reflects that his childhood desire to make either games or movies boiled down to a coin toss and a camera under the Christmas tree.
He learned programming on a TI‑83 calculator, merging technical skill with narrative passion. Whether through a cinematic frame or an interactive session, the ultimate goal remains the same—to transport people into a compelling world. Join Us thus stands as a testament to what a tightly knit, technically adept team can achieve when they blend Hollywood storytelling, entrepreneurial grit, and a refusal to rely on generative AI shortcuts. The game promises a wildly original cult‑sim experience, built on hand‑crafted assets, a robust toolset, and the kind of daring ambition that once seemed impossible for a dozen developers.