The trailer for Join Us first caught the public eye during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator where robed followers zip around on pigs, wield machine guns, and eventually confront colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One quirky detail that didn’t make the final cut was the infamous snake‑gun, a weapon that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was born from a child’s imagination. "My team member’s son asked, ‘What would a snake‑gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool that let us spin up a new firearm in about thirty minutes, so I built one that actually fires snakes. He was blown away, and we kept it in the game," Dietsch recalls.
This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us—a sprawling, open‑world sandbox survival game where players can recruit followers or invite friends into a 1970s‑style cult. The game’s wild mechanics are a direct result of the studio’s tech‑first philosophy, which has enabled a small, tightly‑knit team to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a much larger workforce. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, explains the mindset: "We set out to be disruptors.
Everyone told us a twelve‑person team couldn’t deliver a game of this scale, but we had a track record of punching above our weight in indie film, so we knew it was possible." After 80 pitches, the studio finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving the project the financial backing it needed while preserving creative control. The founders’ 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 originally founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx, giving the team a solid foundation in storytelling and production logistics.
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 game‑dev background, he managed to craft a few modest prototypes before deciding to tackle something more ambitious—a doomsday cult simulator that merged his love of grindhouse cinema with survival‑game mechanics. The initial proof‑of‑concept was rough but promising, and when he showed it to Abbott, the latter immediately took it to Dooma, a partner that helped shape the vision further. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s chief financial officer and narrative director, entered the gaming world after a career in film production and screenwriting. He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins.
Later, he built a series of tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million). After cashing out, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire.
Yet a chance call from his former Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back into development. "I watched the demo Joe had put together and it completely blew my mind," Wendschuh says, prompting him to join the project and bring in seasoned advisors like Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros. Games VP, and Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, an ex‑Ubisoft Montreal programmer who now serves as chief technology officer.
Funding proved to be the toughest hurdle. The team began pitching in the summer of 2023, a period marked by a broader industry downturn. "People liked what we were building, but the market was shaky," Dietsch notes.
After initial outreach, Wolf Haus signed with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) and relaunched its pitch campaign in 2024, eventually landing seed investment from Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh credits CAA’s network—especially agents familiar with both film and games—for opening doors, while the presence of veteran advisors added credibility. Despite the high‑profile backing, the studio remains remarkably lean, employing just thirteen full‑time staff members. "We entered the project with a clear understanding of its scope and deliberately kept the team small so every voice could be heard and every member could touch the creative process," says Dietsch.
To make such an ambitious undertaking feasible, the team devoted a substantial portion of the first development year to building internal tools. "If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person. We invested heavily in a toolkit that lets us expand features across a massive open world without the project collapsing under its own weight," he explains. This tooling‑first approach not only streamlined current development but also laid the groundwork for future titles.
The equity‑funded model gave Wolf Haus the runway needed to perfect these tools. "Krafton and Lifelike provided capital that we used directly to finance the game.
The development is essentially self‑funded, with a small slice of project finance earmarked for marketing later on," Wendschuh clarifies. The investors’ equity stake aligns their interests with the studio’s long‑term value, encouraging the team to continue building robust pipelines rather than cutting corners.
When asked about the role of generative AI—a hot topic in modern game development—both Dietsch and Wendschuh are unequivocal: they avoid it for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential.
Using AI to generate core game content would defeat the purpose of why we love making games," Dietsch states. Wendschuh adds that while the studio may use AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting, it never touches the artistic side of production. Interestingly, Krafton, despite branding itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to refrain from using generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring similar policies at other Krafton‑owned studios such as Neon Giant.
The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game's world and audio. The six‑kilometre‑square map is entirely hand‑built, and the 15,000 voice lines are recorded by human actors, not synthetic voices.
"That level of human involvement matters to us, even as an indie studio," Wendschuh emphasizes. Dietsch also reflects on the differences between filmmaking and game development. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring approvals, casting, and extensive pre‑production.
"You write a script, wait three or five years, then finally get on set," he says. By contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours: "I can have an idea this morning, drop it into the engine, and see it instantly. That immediacy is exhilarating." Wendschuh notes that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with massive coordination required to secure high‑profile talent before a project even gets greenlit. 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; a small team can reach a global audience without needing A‑list actors or directors. This democratization is one of the reasons Wolf Haus feels confident in its lean approach. Both founders agree that storytelling is the common thread linking movies and games.
"When I was six, I wanted to create either movies or games. It boiled down to a coin toss and whether I got a camera for Christmas," Dietsch laughs. He taught himself programming on a TI‑83 calculator, blending technical curiosity with narrative passion.
"Whether you’re crafting a film or a game, you’re delivering an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience. The medium changes, but the core intent stays the same."