The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulator. In the preview, robed followers charge on pig‑back, wielding machine guns, before the screen erupts into an image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the cut was the infamous snake‑gun, a detail that CEO and creative director Joe Dietsch of Wolf Haus Games proudly recounts. "One of the developer’s kids asked, ‘What would a snake‑gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool for weapons, so within half an hour I built a gun that actually fires snakes.
The kid went nuts, and we kept it in the final build," Dietsch says. That anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to join a 1970s‑style doomsday cult. The game’s design philosophy mirrors the studio’s broader approach.
Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, explains that the team set out to be "disruptors" by proving they could deliver a high‑fidelity, large‑scale experience with only a dozen developers. "Everyone told us it was impossible," Abbott recalls.
"But we come from indie film backgrounds where you learn to punch far above your weight, so we weren’t scared of the numbers." Wolf Haus’s founders are steeped in Hollywood history. 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, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before his Star Citizen venture. Abbott later produced movies 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 creating something was huge," he explains. He taught himself through YouTube tutorials, built a few tiny prototypes, and eventually settled on a doomsday‑cult concept that blended survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. The proof‑of‑concept was handed to Abbott, who then presented it to Dooma, the studio that would later become a partner. The financial side of the venture was no less dramatic.
CFO and narrative director Dooma Wendschuh began his career as a film producer and screenwriter before moving into games in the early 2000s, contributing writing to titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. He later founded several tech enterprises, most notably the cannabis‑formulation company Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million (about $330 million USD).
After cashing out, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire. Yet a chance call from his old Hollywood‑hillroommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into development. "I was ready for beaches and dogs, but when Joe sent me the demo, it blew my mind and I quit my retirement plan," Wendschuh says.
He introduced the project to Reid Schneider, former VP at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic, who became a strategic advisor and recruited Ubisoft Montreal veteran Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand as chief technology officer. Securing capital proved challenging amid a market downturn. The team began pitching in summer 2023, initially receiving polite interest but little commitment.
After partnering with CAA in Los Angeles and refining their pitch, they finally closed a seed round with Krafton and Lifelike Capital in 2024. Both investors took equity stakes, allowing Wolf Haus to self‑fund development while retaining creative control. The studio’s lean structure—13 full‑time staff—required a heavy investment in internal tools. "Every system must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch notes.
The first year was split between designing gameplay and building the underlying toolset that would keep the open‑world map from collapsing under its own weight. This tool‑centric ethos extends to future projects, as the team intends to reuse the pipeline for subsequent games. Funding from Kraftor and Lifelike also meant the studio could afford to build those tools without cutting corners. "Because our investors hold equity, they want the studio to increase its enterprise value, so they support our tool‑building philosophy," Wendschuh explains.
"It may slow us down in the short term, but it enables a tiny team to produce a game of this magnitude." When asked about generative AI, the team is unequivocal: they do not employ it for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential. Using AI to generate assets would defeat the purpose of why we get up each morning," Dietsch says.
Wendschuh adds that the only AI they use is for administrative tasks like calendar management and email drafting. Krafton, despite branding itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the game’s creation, mirroring a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio.
The commitment to handcrafted content is evident in the game’s scale. The six‑kilometre‑square map is entirely hand‑crafted, and the 15,000 voice lines were recorded by real actors, not synthetic voices. "Even as a small indie, we felt it was crucial to keep that human element," Dietsch emphasizes.
Dietsch also reflects on the differences between film and game production. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring green‑lights, A‑list talent, and massive budgets.
In contrast, a game idea can be prototyped within hours, allowing immediate iteration. "You can have a concept in the morning and see it in the engine by noon," he says, describing the exhilarating immediacy of interactive media. Wendschuh points out that film production is front‑loaded with high‑stakes negotiations for directors and actors, whereas games have fewer gatekeepers. "Anyone can rent a camera and shoot a backyard movie, but without big names or distribution, success is unlikely.
With games, the barriers are lower; you don’t need an A‑list star to attract players," he explains. Both founders agree that storytelling is the common thread linking the two mediums. "Whether you’re making a movie or a game, you’re delivering an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience," Dietsch concludes, noting that his childhood fascination with both cameras and programming set him on the path he follows today.