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 cultists rode on pigs, unleashed a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminated in a nightmarish vision of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.
One detail that didn’t make the public cut was the infamous snake gun, a quirky weapon that developer Joe Dietsch, CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was born from a child’s imagination. "One of our team member’s kids asked, ‘What would a snake‑shooting gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool that let us spin up a new weapon in about thirty minutes, so I built it on the fly. The kid was thrilled, and the snake gun stayed in the final build," Dietsch recalls. That anecdote perfectly captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival game where players can recruit followers—or other players in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult.
The game’s design philosophy mirrors the studio’s broader approach: lean, tool‑centric, and fiercely independent. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up the ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors. We told everyone we could deliver a AAA‑level experience with just twelve people.
Most people thought we were crazy." Abbott’s confidence stems from a background in low‑budget, high‑impact indie filmmaking. "We grew up making indie films, constantly punching far above our weight. That experience taught us how to stretch limited resources while still achieving cinematic quality," he explains. After a marathon of 80 pitch meetings, the studio finally secured equity financing from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in Wolf Haus.
The founders’ Hollywood roots run deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson—son of 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 company originally founded by Chris Roberts before his move 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. "I discovered Unreal was free to download, and that removed a huge barrier for anyone wanting to create,” he says.
He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, built a few modest prototypes, and eventually settled on the concept of a doomsday cult simulator—a mash‑up of survival mechanics, grindhouse cinema aesthetics, and his own love for both movies and games. The proof‑of‑concept was rough but promising.
Dietsch pushed it as far as he could, anticipating a technical wall that would force him to abandon the idea. When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter saw potential and introduced it to Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s chief financial officer and narrative director.
Wendschuh’s résumé spans film production, screenwriting, and video‑game narrative work, including writing credits on Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. He later founded several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million. After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire. Yet a sudden call from his old Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back.
"I was looking at the video game Joe had built, and it completely blew my mind. It convinced me to come out of retirement," Wendschuh says. He then recruited Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros. Games vice‑president now heading Raccoon Logic, to act as strategic advisor, and brought on Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer.
With the core team in place, the next hurdle was financing—a daunting task given the industry’s downturn in 2023. The studio began pitching in the summer of that year, initially receiving polite interest but little commitment. After engaging CAA (Creative Artists Agency) and re‑pitching in 2024, Wolf Haus finally closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh credits the CAA connection, which also represents titles like 007: First Light, and the credibility of veteran advisors Schneider and Chartrand for opening doors.
Despite the high‑profile backing, the studio remains remarkably small—13 full‑time staff members. "We entered the project knowing exactly what we wanted to achieve, and we deliberately kept the team tight so everyone could have a voice and directly influence the creative direction," Dietsch explains.
To make a large‑scale, high‑fidelity world feasible for such a lean crew, Wolf Haus invested heavily in custom tooling from day one. "Every system in the game had to be scalable and debuggable by a single developer.
We built a toolkit that let us expand features across a massive open world without the project collapsing under its own weight," Dietsch adds. The funding structure gave the studio the breathing room to perfect those tools. Krafton and Lifelike’s equity investment was used primarily to finance development, allowing Wolf Haus to self‑fund the game. "We’re now only tapping external project finance for marketing purposes; the core development was covered by our investors," says Wendschuh.
He notes that equity partners are motivated to increase the studio’s enterprise value, which aligns with Wolf Haus’s philosophy of building reusable tools that solve development challenges, even if they slow immediate progress. 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 game needs a human touch.
Using an AI to generate assets would undermine why we get up in the morning," Dietsch states. Wendschuh concedes the studio uses AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting, but not for any artistic or design decisions.
Interestingly, Krafton, which has publicly branded itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required that Wolf Haus avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio. The team’s commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s massive six‑kilometre‑square map and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors.
"That level of human‑generated audio was essential for us, even as a small indie," Dietsch emphasizes. He also points out the immediacy of game development compared with film. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring countless approvals and the involvement of high‑profile talent.
In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours, allowing developers to see and iterate on their vision instantly. Wendschuh observes that film production is heavily front‑loaded: securing a director, stars, and studio approval before any shooting begins. While anyone can technically shoot a low‑budget movie with a backyard camera, breaking through without marquee names or distribution is rare.
Game development, however, faces fewer gatekeepers, making it more accessible for small teams to achieve commercial success without A‑list talent. Both founders agree that the core creative drive—telling stories and delivering experiences—remains the same across mediums. "When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games. It boiled down to a coin toss and maybe getting a camera for Christmas.
I learned to program on a TI‑83, so I’ve always been fascinated by both," Dietsch reflects. "Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re crafting an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience. The medium changes, but the mission stays constant."