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 zip around on pigs, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with an image of massive, Cthulhu‑like tentacles looming overhead. One detail that didn’t make the final edit was the infamous "snake gun," a weapon that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was inspired by a child’s off‑hand suggestion.
"One of the team members’ kids asked, ‘What would a snake‑gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool that lets us scale a weapon in minutes, so I built a gun that literally fires snakes in about thirty seconds. The kid went nuts, and we kept the weapon in the game," Dietsch recalls.
This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines 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 high‑fidelity experience to be produced by a remarkably small team. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors.
We told everyone, ‘We don’t need a hundred‑person studio; twelve people can do this.’ Most people laughed, calling it impossible." Their confidence stems from a history of punching far above their budgetary weight. "We come from indie filmmaking, where you learn to stretch every dollar," Abbott explains.
After a marathon of 80 pitches, the studio finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which now hold stakes in Wolf Haus. 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 he turned his attention 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 the perceived barrier to creating something was huge.
I started learning from YouTube tutorials and built a few tiny prototypes," he says. Although he had no formal development background, Dietsch managed to ship a couple of small games before deciding to tackle something larger. "I kept circling back to a doomsday cult simulator because it blended survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema—a perfect marriage of my film and gaming passions." He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, expecting to hit a technical wall at some point. When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter immediately took it to Dooma, the studio’s early‑stage partner.
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. He founded Sekretagent Productions, which supplied writing for titles such as 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 island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire and enjoy a quiet life. "I thought I was done, just walking my dog on the beach," he says. Yet a call from his old Hollywood‑Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back.
Abbott told him a friend had built a video game, and when Wendschuh saw Dietsch’s demo, he was blown away. He then introduced the project to Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros. Games vice‑president now heading Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet. Schneider joined as a strategic advisor and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer.
With the core team in place, the next hurdle was funding—a daunting task in a market downturn that began in 2023. "People liked what we were doing, but the timing was tough," Dietsch admits. The studio enlisted CAA (Creative Artists Agency) in Los Angeles, re‑approached investors in 2024, and eventually closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton.
Wendschuh credits the CAA connection—whose roster includes titles like 007: First Light—and the credibility of veterans like Schneider and Chartrand for opening doors. "My agent Derek Douglas had represented me for twelve years in games and previously led the video‑game department at William Morris," Wendschuh notes. Despite the high‑profile backers, Join Us remains a lean operation with just 13 full‑time staff members.
"We entered the project with a clear sense of scope and a desire to keep the team small, so every voice matters and everyone can touch the creative core," says Dietsch. To make such an ambitious open‑world possible, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling from the outset. "If a system exists, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person.
We built a toolkit that lets us expand features across a massive map without the project collapsing under its own weight," Dietsch explains. This tooling philosophy not only supports Join Us but also lays the groundwork for future Wolf Haus titles.
The equity financing from Krafton and Lifelike allowed the studio to self‑fund development, using the capital to perfect those tools rather than relying on external milestones. "Our investors benefit when the studio’s enterprise value grows, so they encourage us to build robust tools even if it slows short‑term progress," Wendschuh says.
This approach aligns with the studio’s ethos: whenever a problem arises, they build a bespoke solution rather than patching it with off‑the‑shelf fixes. When asked about generative AI—a hot topic in game development—both Dietsch and Wendschuh are unequivocal: they do not employ AI for creative work.
"We believe a human touch is essential. Using an AI to generate content would defeat the reason we get up every morning," Dietsch asserts.
Wendschuh adds that the studio only uses AI for administrative tasks like calendar management and email drafting. Interestingly, Krafton, which has publicly positioned itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline. This mirrors a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio.
The team’s commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s world and audio. The six‑kilometre‑square map was built entirely by hand, and the 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human actors—an effort Dietsch feels is crucial even for an indie‑scale project.
"We wanted every line to have that human nuance; AI‑generated voices just don’t capture the emotion we need," he says. Dietsch also reflects on the differences between film and game creation. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring approvals, casting, and massive budgets before a director sees the finished product.
In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours, allowing immediate iteration. "You can have an idea at breakfast and see it in the engine by lunch.
That immediacy is exhilarating," he notes. Wendschuh points out that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with intense, costly set‑ups and a reliance on a few high‑profile talent to secure studio backing. While anyone can technically shoot a movie with a consumer‑grade camera, breaking through without star power or distribution is rare.
Game development, by contrast, has far fewer gatekeepers. "You don’t need an A‑list actor or director to get a game funded; a solid prototype and a passionate team can attract investors," he explains. Both founders agree that, at its core, creating a game or a film is about storytelling and delivering an experience. "When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games.
It boiled down to a coin toss and whether I got a camera for Christmas. I learned programming on a TI‑83, so both mediums have always felt like natural extensions of my curiosity," Dietsch reflects. "Whether it’s film or a game, you’re crafting a narrative, engaging an audience, and that fundamental drive remains unchanged."