The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulation. In the clip, robed followers ride on pigs, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with a terrifying image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One element that didn’t make the final cut was the infamous snake‑gun, a quirky weapon that CEO and creative director Joe Dietsch says was born from a simple request by a team member’s child. "His son asked, ‘Can we have a snake gun?’" Dietsch recalls.
"Because we had a modular weapon system, I whipped up a prototype in about thirty minutes. The kid went nuts, and the gun stayed in the game." That anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit of Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival title where players can recruit followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult.
It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has enabled a small group of developers to produce a high‑fidelity, large‑scale experience. "We set out to be disruptors," says Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer. "We told everyone, ‘We don’t need a hundred‑person studio; twelve talented people can do this.’ Most people laughed and called it impossible." The team’s confidence stems from a history of punching far above their weight. Coming from indie film backgrounds, they are accustomed to delivering cinematic quality on shoestring budgets.
After 80 pitch meetings, Wolf Haus finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving the studio the financial runway it needed. The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep.
Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of Mel Gibson, who now co‑heads Wolf Haus. 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 originally founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to Star Citizen.
Abbott later produced films 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 creation was huge," he explains.
He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, built a few small prototypes, and eventually settled on a doomsday‑cult concept that blended survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, showed it to Abbott, and the duo began to flesh out the vision.
The studio’s narrative director and CFO, Dooma Wendschuh, began his career as a film producer and screenwriter before moving into games in the early 2000s. He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing writing services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later, he launched several tech ventures, including the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million).
After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote restaurant on a tiny Canadian island, intending to retire. Yet a chance call from his old Hollywood‑Hills roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into development. Impressed by Dietsch’s demo, Wendschuh re‑entered the industry, bringing on former Warner Bros. Games VP Reid Schneider as a strategic advisor and recruiting Ubisoft Montreal veteran Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand as chief technology officer.
Funding proved to be the next hurdle. The team began pitching in the summer of 2023, a period marked by a broader industry downturn. "People liked what we were showing, but the market was tight," Dietsch notes.
After initial outreach, Wolf Haus signed with CAA in Los Angeles, re‑approached investors, and finally closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton in 2024. 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, Join Us is being built by just 13 full‑time staff members. The studio deliberately kept the team small to preserve a collaborative culture where every voice influences the creative direction.
To make a game of this scope feasible with limited personnel, Wolf Haus invested heavily in custom tooling from the outset. "Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single developer," says Dietsch.
"We built a toolkit that lets us expand features across a massive open world without the project collapsing under its own weight. The first year was as much about building those tools as it was about designing gameplay." The equity partnership with Krafton and Lifelike allowed Wolf Haus to self‑fund the development, using the capital solely for the game’s creation. "We’re now only taking on a modest amount of project finance for marketing," Wendschuh explains.
"Our investors want the studio to increase its enterprise value, so they encourage us to build robust tools. When we hit a technical roadblock, we simply create a new tool to solve it. It may slow development, but it enables a tiny team to deliver a AAA‑level experience." When asked about generative AI, the team is unequivocal: they do not employ it for any creative tasks. "We believe a human touch is essential to game making," Dietsch states.
"Using an AI to generate content would defeat the reason we get up every morning. The only AI we use is for mundane tasks like calendar management and email replies." Krafton, which has branded itself as an "AI‑first" company, actually discouraged Wolf Haus from using generative AI in the creative pipeline.
This stance mirrors comments from Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio that publicly rejected the parent’s AI push. Both studios emphasize preserving jobs for voice actors, artists, and other creatives. In Join Us, the six‑kilometre‑square map is hand‑crafted, and the game features roughly 15,000 voice lines recorded by human talent—an intentional choice to maintain authenticity.
Dietsch reflects on the contrast between film and games, noting the immediacy of the latter. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring approvals, casting, and extensive pre‑production. In game development, an inspiration can be prototyped in the engine within hours, allowing creators to see their vision instantly.
Wendschuh adds that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with massive effort required to secure a few high‑profile names before a project ever sees a set. By comparison, games face fewer gatekeepers; a small studio can ship a successful title without needing A‑list actors or directors. Both mediums, however, share a core creative drive: storytelling and delivering an experience that resonates with an audience. Dietsch’s childhood ambition—to make either games or movies—ultimately led him down a path where the distinction between the two has blurred.
"Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re trying to tell a story and engage people," he says. "The tools and processes differ, but the creative impulse remains the same."