The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, giving viewers a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator. In the clip, robed cultists ride on pigs, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with an image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What the audience didn’t see 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 the team members’ sons asked, ‘What would a snake gun look like?’ We had a modular weapon system that let us prototype something in half an hour. I built a gun that actually fires snakes, and the kid was thrilled. It stayed in the final build," Dietsch recalls.
That anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox survival experience where players can recruit followers—or teammates in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult empire. It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has enabled a small crew to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a far larger staff.
Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their philosophy: “We set out to be disruptors. We told ourselves we could do everything with twelve people, and everyone else said it was impossible.” The team’s confidence wasn’t unfounded.
Coming from indie‑film backgrounds, they were accustomed to punching far above their weight. After 80 pitches, they finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took a stake in Wolf Haus.
The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University, where he met Louie Gibson—son of Mel Gibson—and the two later co‑wrote and co‑directed the indie films 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 he moved on to Star Citizen. Abbott later 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 there was a massive barrier to actually creating something,” he explains.
He taught himself through YouTube tutorials, built a few small prototypes, and eventually settled on a doomsday cult simulator that blended survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept, expecting to hit a technical wall at some point. When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter took it to Dooma, a partner who helped refine the vision.
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, contributing writing to titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later, he 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. "I was looking at the video Joe had made, and it blew my mind.
It convinced me to come 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 joined as a strategic advisor and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer.
With the core team in place, the next hurdle was financing—a daunting task during the industry downturn of 2023‑24. The studio pitched repeatedly, eventually enlisting the representation of CAA in Los Angeles.
Their persistence paid off when Lifelike Capital and Krafton closed a seed round, providing the capital needed to keep development on track. The partnership with CAA, which also represents titles like 007: First Light, proved crucial. "Derek Douglas, our agent at CAA, had been my agent during my twelve‑year game‑making career and previously headed the video‑game department at William Morris," Wendschuh notes. Despite the high ambitions, Join Us is being built by just 13 full‑time staff members.
Dietsch emphasizes that the small‑team model was intentional: “We wanted everyone to have a voice, to touch the creative process, and to feel ownership of the final product.” To make such a scope feasible, 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. The first year of development was split between ideating gameplay and constructing the internal tools that would later allow the world to expand without collapsing under its own weight.
Funding from Kraftor and Lifelike was structured as equity, meaning the studio could self‑finance the core development while using a modest amount of project finance for marketing. This arrangement also aligned investors’ interests with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the continued building of reusable tools. When asked about generative AI, the team’s stance is clear: they deliberately avoid it in creative production. "We believe a human touch is essential.
Using AI to generate assets would undermine why we get up every morning to make games," Dietsch says. Wendschuh adds that while they may use AI for administrative tasks like calendar management, it never touches the artistic side. Interestingly, Krafton, which has branded itself as an “AI‑first” company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to refrain from using generative AI in the creative pipeline, echoing similar statements from Krafton‑owned Neon Giant. The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s massive six‑kilometer‑square map, which was built manually, and the 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors.
"Even as a tiny indie, we felt it was vital to keep the human element," says Dietsch. Dietsch also reflects on the differences between filmmaking and game development.
In film, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring approvals, casting, and studio green‑lights. In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped in a single morning, placed into the engine, and instantly visualized. This immediacy fuels his enthusiasm for interactive media.
Wendschuh points out that film production is heavily front‑loaded: securing high‑profile talent and studio backing before cameras even roll. While anyone can shoot a backyard movie, breaking through without star power or distribution is rare. Game development, however, faces fewer gatekeepers; a small team can reach a global audience without A‑list names.
Both founders agree that, at their core, creating movies and games is about storytelling and delivering an experience. Dietsch recalls his childhood: "I wanted to make either movies or games. It boiled down to a coin toss and getting a camera for Christmas. I learned to program on a TI‑83, so the love for both mediums has always been there.
Whether it’s a film or a game, you’re trying to tell a story and engage an audience." In summary, Wolf Haus’s Join Us exemplifies how a small, tightly knit team with Hollywood experience, savvy tech development, and disciplined financing can produce a large‑scale, high‑quality game without relying on generative AI. Their story demonstrates that with the right tools, clear vision, and a willingness to defy industry expectations, a dozen passionate creators can deliver a title that rivals projects built by far larger studios.