The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulator. In the teaser, robed followers charge on pig‑back while firing machine guns, and the sequence culminates in a monstrous, Cthulhu‑like tangle of 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 team members’ kids suggested a snake‑shooting weapon," Dietsch recalls. "We had a rapid‑prototyping tool for firearms, so within half an hour I built a gun that launches snakes. The kid went nuts, and the weapon stayed in the final build." That anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to their 1970s‑style doomsday cult.
It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a relatively tiny crew to produce a high‑fidelity, large‑scale title. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed it up: “We set out to be disruptors.” "We told everyone we could pull off a AAA‑level game with just twelve people," Abbott says. "Most people thought we were dreaming. But we’ve spent our careers punching well above our weight in indie film, so we knew how to stretch a budget.
After 80 pitches we finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital." The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson—son of Mel Gibson and another Wolf Haus co‑founder—and together they 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 Star Citizen days. Later, Abbott produced movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx.
Join Us originated from Dietsch’s early experiments in Unreal Engine. "Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt the barrier to creating one was huge," he explains. "I started learning from YouTube tutorials and built a few tiny prototypes.
The idea of a doomsday cult simulator kept resurfacing because it merged my love of survival games with grindhouse cinema." He built a proof‑of‑concept and showed it to Abbott, who then presented it to Dooma. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, began his career as a film producer and screenwriter before moving into games in the early 2000s, providing narrative work for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins.
He later founded several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation firm Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million. After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, planning a quiet retirement. Yet a call from his old Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, changed those plans.
"He told me a friend had made a video game. I watched the demo and it blew my mind, so I came out of retirement," Wendschuh says.
He then introduced the project to Reid Schneider, former VP at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic, who became a strategic advisor and recruited former Ubisoft Montreal programmer Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand as chief technology officer. With a core team forming, the next hurdle was financing—a daunting task during the industry downturn of 2023‑24.
The studio pitched repeatedly, eventually signing with CAA in Los Angeles and securing a seed round from Lifelike Capital and Krafton. "Having CAA, which also represents titles like 007: First Light, opened doors," says Dietsch. "Our agent Derek Douglas had been my representative during my twelve‑year game‑development stint, and his connections helped us break through the noise." Despite the high‑profile backing, Wolf Haus kept the team intentionally small—13 full‑time staff at the time of writing.
"We wanted every voice to be heard and every member to touch the creative core," Dietsch notes. To make a sprawling open‑world possible with so few hands, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling early on.
"Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," he explains. "We spent the first year building the very tools that would let us expand the world without it collapsing under its own weight." The equity investors played a crucial role in this approach. "Krafton and Lifelike provided capital that we used to fund the entire development," Wendschuh says.
"Because they are equity partners, they care about the studio’s long‑term value, so they support our tool‑building ethos even if it slows short‑term progress." When asked about generative AI, the team is unequivocal: they do not rely on it for creative work. "We believe a game needs a human touch," Dietsch asserts. "We have a few AI subscriptions for mundane tasks like calendar management, but none of our design, art, or writing uses generative models." Krafton, despite branding itself as an “AI‑first” company, also insisted Wolf Haus stay clear of generative AI for creative assets.
This mirrors Krafton‑owned Neon Giant’s public statement that it would not adopt the parent’s AI pivot for its own projects. "Our investors wanted assurance we weren’t using AI to replace voice actors or artists," Wendschuh adds. "The six‑kilometre‑square map in Join Us is hand‑crafted, and all 15,000 voice lines were recorded by real performers." Dietsch finds the immediacy of game development refreshing compared with film. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring approvals, casting, and studio greenlights.
In games, a concept can be prototyped the same day and iterated instantly within the engine. "You can have an idea at breakfast and see it on screen by lunch," he says, highlighting the rapid feedback loop that fuels his creativity.
Wendschuh notes that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with massive coordination required before any shooting begins. "You can rent a camera and shoot a backyard movie, but without star power or distribution it’s unlikely to break out," he explains. "Games have far fewer gatekeepers—no need for an A‑list director or actor to get greenlit. That democratization makes it easier for a small indie studio to reach a global audience." Both mediums, however, share a common goal: delivering an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience.
Dietsch reflects, "When I was six I wanted to make either movies or games. It came down to a coin toss and a camera for Christmas. I learned to program on a TI‑83, so the love for both has always been there.
Whether you’re crafting a film or a game, you’re creating a narrative that moves people. That core passion hasn’t changed."