You may remember seeing the Join Us trailer during the Xbox Showcase in June. The clip introduced a darkly humorous cooperative cult‑simulation, featuring robed followers riding on pigs, firing machine guns, and culminating in a shot of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the final edit was the infamous snake gun, a weapon that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, proudly explains was born from a child’s off‑hand suggestion. "One of the team members’ kids asked, ‘What would a snake‑gun look like?’" Dietsch recounts.
"Because we had a modular gun‑creation tool, I was able to prototype a snake‑shooting weapon in roughly thirty minutes. The kid was thrilled, and the gun stayed in the game." This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us – an open‑world sandbox survival experience where players can recruit followers or team up with friends to run a 1970s‑style cult.
It also highlights the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has enabled a high‑fidelity title to be built by a surprisingly small roster. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, sums up their philosophy: "We wanted to be disruptors.
We told everyone, ‘We don’t need a hundred‑person studio; twelve talented people can do this.’ Most people thought we were crazy." Their confidence stems from a history of achieving big results on modest budgets. "We come from indie filmmaking and are used to punching well above our weight," Abbott adds. After 80 pitches, the team finally secured 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 alongside Louie Gibson, son of Mel Gibson and fellow Wolf Haus co‑founder. Together they co‑wrote and co‑directed the indie features Happy Hunting and Manifest West. Abbott is the son of renowned makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before his Star Citizen venture.
Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us originated from Dietsch’s early experiments in Unreal Engine. "I discovered Unreal was free to download and started tinkering with it using YouTube tutorials," he says. Though he had no formal training, he managed to build a few small prototypes before deciding to tackle something larger.
The concept of a doomsday cult simulator appealed to him because it fused survival mechanics with grindhouse‑style cinema, marrying his two passions into a single intellectual property. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, expecting to hit a technical wall at some point.
When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter immediately took it to Dooma, a partner studio. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, had begun his career as a film producer and screenwriter before transitioning to games in the early 2000s. He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later, Wendschuh launched several tech ventures, including 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, intending to retire and enjoy a quiet life. Yet, in classic Hollywood fashion, a call from his old roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back. "I was looking at a video game Joe had made, and it blew my mind. It convinced me to come out of retirement," Wendschuh recalls.
He introduced the project to Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros. Games vice‑president now heading Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet. Schneider joined as a strategic advisor and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a veteran programmer from Ubisoft Montreal, to serve as chief technology officer.
With the core team in place, the next hurdle was funding, which proved difficult amid a market downturn in 2023. The studio pitched relentlessly, eventually partnering with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) in Los Angeles for representation.
Their persistence paid off in 2024 when Lifelike Capital and Krafton closed a seed round, providing the capital needed to continue development. Abbott credits CAA’s network and the presence of industry veterans like Schneider and Chartrand for opening doors. "Our agent Derek Douglas had represented me for twelve years and previously headed the video‑game department at William Morris," says Wendschuh. "Those connections mattered.
Despite the high ambitions of Join Us, the studio remains lean, with only 13 full‑time staff members. Dietsch emphasizes that a small team fosters a collaborative atmosphere where every voice matters and each person can influence the creative direction.
To make such a scope feasible, the studio invested heavily in internal tools from the outset. "If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch explains.
"We built a toolkit that lets us expand features across an open world 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 funding structure also allowed the team to perfect their pipeline.
Krafton and Lifelike’s equity investment means the game is essentially self‑funded; only a modest amount of project finance is being used for marketing. "Equity partners want the studio to increase its enterprise value, so they support our tool‑building ethos," Wendschuh notes. "Whenever we encounter a problem we don’t know how to solve, we build a tool for it.
It may slow development in the short term, but it enables a tiny team to deliver a AAA‑ish experience." When asked about generative AI, the team is unequivocal: they do not rely on it for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential," says Dietsch. "We enjoy making games ourselves; handing the process over to an AI would defeat the purpose of why we get up in the morning." Wendschuh adds that the studio only uses AI for administrative tasks like calendar management and email drafting. "We have no AI involvement in art, design, or narrative," he confirms.
Interestingly, Krafton, which has branded itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline. This mirrors statements from Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio that distanced itself from the parent’s AI push. The team’s commitment to handcrafted content is evident in the game’s six‑kilometre‑square map, which was built entirely by hand, and the 15,000 voice lines recorded by human actors. "Even as a small indie, we felt it was vital to keep the experience human‑driven," Dietsch says.
Dietsch also reflects on the differences between film and games. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring countless approvals and the involvement of high‑profile talent.
In contrast, a game prototype can be built in a single day, allowing immediate iteration. "You can have an idea this morning, drop it into the engine, and see it instantly," he enthuses. Wendschuh agrees, noting that film production is front‑loaded with intense pre‑production phases, whereas games offer more flexibility and fewer gatekeepers. "Anyone can make a game without an A‑list star or director, which dramatically raises the odds of success," he observes.
Both founders trace their love for storytelling back to childhood. "When I was six, I wanted to make either games or movies. It came down to a coin toss and whether I got a camera for Christmas," Dietsch laughs.
He taught himself programming on a TI‑83 calculator, merging his twin passions into a career that now bridges the two mediums. "Whether it’s a film or a game, you’re delivering an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience. The core creative impulse remains the same."