The trailer for Join Us first caught public attention during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulator. In the clip, robed followers charge on pig‑mounted platforms, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with an ominous image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.
One detail that didn’t make the final edit was the infamous “snake gun,” a weapon whose origin, according to Wolf Haus Games CEO and creative director Joe Dietsch, is as quirky as the game itself. Dietsch recounts that the idea came from a team member’s son, who asked, “What would a snake‑shooting gun look like?” Thanks to an in‑house tool that allows rapid weapon prototyping, Dietsch was able to script a functional snake‑gun in roughly thirty minutes.
The result was a weapon that literally fires serpents, a feature that still delights players and exemplifies the kind of off‑the‑wall gameplay Join Us promises. Join Us is an open‑world sandbox survival experience set in a 1970s‑style cult environment.
Players can recruit AI followers or invite friends into co‑op sessions, building a bizarre community that blends survival mechanics with over‑the‑top cult antics. The game’s design philosophy mirrors the studio’s broader approach: a focus on technology that lets a small, highly skilled team deliver a high‑fidelity experience without the massive headcount typical of AAA productions. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, describes the studio’s ambition as a deliberate act of disruption.
“We told everyone we could build this with just twelve people. Most people thought we were crazy,” he says. Their confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where crews often have to stretch limited resources to achieve cinematic ambitions. After 80 pitch meetings, Wolf Haus finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in the company.
The founding trio’s Hollywood credentials run deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of actor‑director Mel Gibson, and the two later 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, a production house founded by Chris Roberts before his shift to Star Citizen. Abbott’s film résumé also includes producing credits on titles such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. The seed of Join Us sprouted when Dietsch began experimenting with Unreal Engine after discovering it was freely downloadable. “I’d been a gamer my whole life, but creating something felt like a massive barrier,” he explains.
He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, eventually crafting a few modest prototypes. The concept that persisted was a doomsday cult simulator that merged his love for survival games with the gritty aesthetic of grindhouse cinema, a hybrid he felt could become a unique intellectual property. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, expecting to hit technical limits quickly.
When he showed it to Abbott, the latter recognized its potential and introduced it to Dooma, a production partner. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, originally came from the film world as a producer and screenwriter before moving into games in the early 2000s.
He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative services 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.
After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote restaurant on a tiny Canadian island, intending to retire. Yet, in classic Hollywood fashion, a call from his former roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back.
Abbott told him a friend had built a video game, and after a quick look, Wendschuh was convinced to re‑enter the industry. He brought the project to Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros. Games VP 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 assembled, the next hurdle was financing, which proved difficult amid a market downturn in 2023. Initial pitches generated interest but also skepticism.
The studio eventually partnered with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) in Los Angeles, leveraging the agency’s connections to secure a seed round from Lifelike Capital and Krafton in 2024. Wendschuh credits CAA’s representation—alongside veteran agents like Derek Douglas, who had previously represented him in the gaming sector—for opening doors. Despite the high‑profile backing, Wolf Haus kept its development crew deliberately lean: thirteen full‑time staff members. Dietsch emphasizes that this small‑team model fosters a collaborative atmosphere where every employee can influence creative decisions.
To make such an ambitious open‑world title feasible, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling from day one. "Any system we build must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch notes.
The first year of development was therefore split between ideating gameplay features and engineering the underlying toolset that would allow those features to scale across a six‑kilometre‑square map without collapsing under their own complexity. The funding structure also gave Wolf Haus the runway needed to perfect these tools. Krafton and Lifelike’s equity investment meant the game could be self‑funded, with only a modest amount of project finance earmarked for marketing.
This arrangement aligned investor incentives with the studio’s ethos: building robust internal tools rather than outsourcing or cutting corners. When asked about the role of generative AI—a hot topic in game development—both Dietsch and Wendschuh were unequivocal: Wolf Haus does not employ AI for creative tasks. "We believe a human touch is essential," Dietsch says. The studio does use AI‑powered services for mundane administrative work, such as calendar management and email drafting, but none of the game’s art, narrative, or design is generated by algorithms.
Krafton, despite branding itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required that Wolf Haus refrain from using generative AI in the creative pipeline, echoing similar stances taken by other Krafton‑owned studios like Neon Giant. The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s world and voice work.
The entire six‑kilometre‑square environment is hand‑modeled, and all 15,000 voice lines are performed by human actors, a point the team stresses as a badge of authenticity for an indie title. Dietsch reflects on the contrast between filmmaking and game development. In film, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring countless approvals and the involvement of high‑profile talent to secure financing.
By contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours, allowing creators to iterate instantly. "You can have an idea at breakfast and see it in the engine by lunch," he says, highlighting the immediacy that attracted him to the medium. Wendschuh adds that movies are front‑loaded with intense pre‑production phases, often hinging on securing a few marquee names.
While anyone can technically shoot a film with a consumer‑grade camera, breaking through without star power or distribution channels is rare. Games, however, have a lower barrier to entry and fewer gatekeepers, meaning a small, dedicated team can reach a global audience without needing A‑list talent. Both founders trace their passion back to childhood. Dietsch recalls wanting to make either movies or games at six years old, his path ultimately determined by a Christmas gift—a camera.
He taught himself programming on a TI‑83 calculator, merging his love for both mediums. He concludes that whether the canvas is film or interactive entertainment, the goal remains the same: to craft an experience, tell a story, and engage an audience.