The trailer for Join Us first caught the public eye during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulation. In the clip, robed followers zip around on pigs, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with an ominous image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One element that didn’t make the final cut was the infamous snake gun, a quirky weapon that Joe Dietsch, the chief executive officer and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, proudly recounts.
"One of our team member’s kids came up with the idea of a snake‑shooting gun," Dietsch explains. "We have a rapid‑prototyping tool that lets us scale weapons in minutes, so I whipped up a snake‑gun in about thirty minutes. The kid was thrilled, and the weapon stayed in the game." That anecdote encapsulates the kind of chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or bring friends online—to build a 1970s‑style cult empire. It also highlights the studio’s technology‑first philosophy, which has allowed a relatively tiny crew to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally demand a far larger staff.
Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, sums up their ambition: "We set out to be disruptors. We told everyone we could build this with twelve people, and they laughed." The team’s confidence stems from a history of achieving big results on modest budgets. "We come from indie film backgrounds and are used to punching well above our weight," Abbott says.
After a marathon of 80 pitch meetings, Wolf Haus finally secured equity investments from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in the studio. The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson—son of Mel Gibson—who 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 founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us began as a hobby project for Dietsch in Unreal Engine.
"I discovered Unreal was free to download, and despite loving games for years, I felt there was a huge barrier to actually creating something," he says. He taught himself through YouTube tutorials, built a few small prototypes, and eventually settled on the concept of a doomsday cult simulator that fused survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics.
He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, showed it to Abbott, and the idea quickly gained momentum. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s chief financial officer and narrative director, entered the picture after a varied career that spanned film production, screenwriting, and video‑game writing for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins.
He later founded several tech ventures, including the cannabis‑formulation firm Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million. After a brief retirement—during which he bought a remote Canadian island restaurant—Wendschuh was pulled back into development when his old Hollywood‑hill roommate Michael Abbott called about a video‑game prototype. "The demo blew my mind and got me out of retirement," Wendschuh recalls.
Through Wendschuh’s network, the studio recruited Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros. Games vice‑president, as a strategic advisor, and Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, an ex‑Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer.
With the core team in place, the next hurdle was financing, which proved difficult amid an industry downturn in the summer of 2023. After initial outreach, the studio enlisted Creative Artists Agency (CAA) to represent them, returned to pitching in 2024, and eventually closed a seed round with Krafton and Lifelike Capital. Abbott credits CAA’s clout—representing titles like 007: First Light—and the presence of seasoned veterans such as Schneider and Chartrand for opening doors.
"My agent Derek Douglas had represented me for twelve years in games and previously ran the video‑game department at William Morris," Wendschuh notes. What truly sets Join Us apart is the scale of its ambition relative to its headcount.
With just 13 full‑time staff members, Wolf Haus deliberately kept the team small to preserve a collaborative atmosphere where every voice matters. Dietsch explains that early in development the studio invested heavily in building internal tools.
"If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person. We built a toolkit that lets us expand features across a massive open world without the project collapsing under its own weight." The funding model gave the studio the luxury of time to perfect those tools. Krafton and Lifelike’s equity stakes meant the game was essentially self‑funded, with only a modest amount of project finance earmarked for marketing.
"Equity investors want the studio to increase its enterprise value, so they support our tool‑building ethos. Whenever we hit a problem we don’t know how to solve, we build a custom tool. It may slow development, but it enables a tiny team to deliver a game of this magnitude," Wendschuh explains.
In an industry increasingly buzzing about generative AI, Wolf Haus has taken a clear stance: they do not rely on AI for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential. Using AI to generate content would defeat the reason we get up every morning," Dietsch says.
Wendschuh adds that the studio only uses AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting, never for art, design, or writing. Even Krafton, which has branded itself an "AI‑first" company, insisted that Wolf Haus not employ generative AI in the creative pipeline. This mirrors a similar position taken by Krafton‑owned Neon Giant, which publicly distanced itself from the parent company’s AI pivot.
Wolf Haus’s commitment to handcrafted content is evident in the game’s six‑kilometer‑square map, which was entirely built by hand, and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors. "That level of human‑generated detail mattered to us, even as a small indie studio," Dietsch emphasizes. 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 games, an idea can be prototyped in a single morning, instantly visualized in the engine, and iterated upon immediately. "The immediacy is exhilarating," he says.
Wendschuh notes that film production is heavily front‑loaded: securing A‑list talent and studio backing before cameras even roll. While anyone can technically shoot a low‑budget movie, breaking through without marquee names or distribution is rare.
By contrast, the game industry has fewer gatekeepers, allowing small teams to reach audiences without star power. Both founders agree that the core creative impulse—telling stories and delivering experiences—remains the same across mediums. "When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games; it came down to a coin toss and whether I got a camera for Christmas," Dietsch laughs.
"I learned to program on a TI‑83, so I’ve always been drawn to both. Ultimately, whether you’re crafting a film or a game, you’re creating an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience. That fundamental goal never changes."