You may remember seeing the Join Us trailer during the Xbox Showcase in June. The clip introduced a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator where robed followers ride pig‑back, unleash machine‑guns, and eventually confront colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.

What didn’t make the final cut was the infamous snake gun, a quirky weapon that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was born from a child’s imagination. "One of our team member’s son asked, ‘What would a snake‑shooting gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool that let us spin up a new weapon in about thirty minutes, so I built it on the spot. The kid went wild, and the snake gun stayed in the game," Dietsch recounts.

That anecdote captures the chaotic, sandbox‑style gameplay at the heart of Join Us. In this open‑world survival title, players can recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op mode—to join a 1970s‑inspired cult. The game’s design philosophy mirrors the studio’s broader approach: lean, tool‑centric, and deliberately disruptive.

Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed it up: “We set out to prove that a twelve‑person team could deliver a high‑fidelity, large‑scale experience without the usual hundred‑person bureaucracy.” The team’s confidence wasn’t unfounded. All founders came from indie‑film backgrounds where they learned to stretch modest budgets into ambitious productions.

"We’re used to punching well above our weight," Abbott says. After 80 pitches, they finally secured equity financing from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in Wolf Haus.

The studio’s Hollywood pedigree runs deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of Mel Gibson, who later co‑founded Wolf Haus and 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 started by Chris Roberts before his Star Citizen days. He later produced films 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 learning from YouTube tutorials," he explains.

Though he had no formal game‑dev experience, he built a few small prototypes before committing to a larger vision: a doomsday cult simulator that fused survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He created a proof‑of‑concept demo, showed it to Abbott, and the duo took it to Dooma for further development. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s CFO and narrative director, brings a unique blend of film and tech expertise. He began as a producer and screenwriter before founding Sekretagent Productions, which supplied narrative work for titles like 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, sold for roughly C$430 million. After a brief retirement on a remote Canadian island, a call from his old Hollywood‑hill roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into game development. Impressed by Dietsch’s demo, Wendschuh joined the effort, later recruiting former Warner Bros. Games VP Reid Schneider as strategic advisor and ex‑Ubisoft Montreal programmer Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand as chief technology officer.

Funding proved challenging amid an industry downturn. The team began pitching in summer 2023, faced repeated rejections, and eventually enlisted CAA (Creative Artists Agency) to amplify their outreach.

By 2024, Lifelike Capital and Krafton closed a seed round, providing the capital needed to finish the game. Wendschuh credits CAA’s representation—also handling titles like 007: First Light—and the presence of seasoned veterans such as Schneider and Chartrand for opening doors. Despite the high ambitions, the studio remains tiny: only 13 full‑time staff members.

Dietsch emphasizes that the small size is intentional, fostering a collaborative environment where every voice influences the creative direction. To make a sprawling open‑world title feasible with such a lean crew, Wolf Haus invested heavily in internal tooling from day one. "Any system we build must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch says.

The first year of development was split between ideating gameplay features and constructing the underlying toolchain that would keep the project from collapsing under its own weight. The equity partnership with Kraftor and Lifelike allowed the studio to self‑fund the development phase. "The money they invested is being used directly to build the game," Wendschuh notes.

While they are now seeking modest project financing for marketing, the core development has been covered entirely by the equity investors. This model aligns incentives: the investors benefit from increased enterprise value, encouraging the studio to continue building reusable tools and a robust pipeline.

When asked about generative AI, the team’s answer is unequivocal: they avoid it for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential for games," Dietsch says. "Using an AI to generate assets would defeat the purpose of why we get up every morning." Wendschuh adds that the only AI tools they employ are mundane productivity aids, such as calendar scheduling and email drafting.

Interestingly, Krafton—publicly branding itself as an "AI‑first" company—specifically required that Wolf Haus not rely on generative AI for creative production, echoing similar stances from other Krafton‑owned studios like Neon Giant. The 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. Dietsch believes this authenticity is vital, even for an indie‑scale title. He also points out a key advantage of game development over film: immediacy.

In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring studio green‑lights, casting, and location logistics. In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours, allowing creators to iterate instantly.

Wendschuh observes that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with intense pre‑production phases involving high‑profile talent negotiations. While anyone can technically shoot a low‑budget movie with a backyard camera, breaking through without star power or distribution is rare.

Games, however, have far fewer gatekeepers. "You don’t need an A‑list actor or director to succeed; you just need a compelling experience," he explains. Both founders agree that the core creative impulse—telling a story and delivering an experience—remains the same across mediums.

Dietsch recalls that as a six‑year‑old he wanted to make either movies or games, and a coin toss plus a Christmas camera set him on his path. He learned programming on a TI‑83 calculator, blending technical curiosity with narrative passion. Today, whether through a cult‑themed survival sandbox or an indie film, his goal remains to immerse audiences in a world he helped build.

In summary, Wolf Haus’s journey illustrates how a small, Hollywood‑savvy team can leverage custom tools, strategic financing, and a clear artistic vision to produce a large‑scale, high‑quality game without relying on generative AI. Their story challenges the notion that massive budgets and huge staff are prerequisites for ambitious interactive experiences, and it showcases how cross‑industry expertise—spanning film, cannabis tech, and video‑game development—can converge to create something truly unique.