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 while brandishing machine guns, culminating in a dramatic reveal of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the final cut, according to Joe Dietsch—CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games—was the infamous snake gun. "One of the developers’ kids came up with the idea and 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 half an hour, so I built it on the spot.

The kid was thrilled, and the weapon stayed in the game," Dietsch recalls. That anecdote perfectly illustrates the chaotic, sandbox‑style gameplay that Join Us promises. Players will build a 1970s‑inspired cult, recruit followers—or friends in co‑op mode—and survive in an open‑world environment that encourages absurdity as much as strategy. It also showcases the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a small crew to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a far larger staff.

Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up the team’s philosophy: "We set out to be disruptors. We told everyone, ‘We don’t need a hundred‑person studio; twelve talented people can deliver.’ Most people laughed, assuming it was impossible.

Our background in indie filmmaking taught us how to punch well above our weight, so we persisted. After 80 pitches, we finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which now hold stakes in Wolf Haus." The founders’ Hollywood credentials 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 shift to the Star Citizen universe.

Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us originated from Dietsch’s early experiments with Unreal Engine. "I discovered Unreal was free to download and started tinkering after watching countless YouTube tutorials," he explains.

Though he had never built a game before, he managed to create a few small prototypes before deciding to tackle something larger: a doomsday cult simulator that merged his love for survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, assuming it would quickly hit a technical wall. When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter saw its potential and introduced it to Dooma, a production partner. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, had previously worked as a screenwriter and producer in film before transitioning to games in the early 2000s.

He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later, he launched several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation firm 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. Yet, in classic Hollywood fashion, a call from his old roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back. "I was ready to spend my days on the beach, but when I saw the demo Joe had built, it blew my mind and convinced me to come out of retirement," he says. 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, an ex‑Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve 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 few firm commitments.

After enlisting the Creative Artists Agency (CAA) for representation, they returned to the pitch circuit in 2024, eventually closing a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh notes that CAA’s connections, including agents who had represented major titles like 007: First Light, were instrumental, as was the presence of seasoned veterans Schneider and Chartrand. Despite the heavyweight pedigree, the development team remains lean: just 13 full‑time staff members. "We entered the project with a clear understanding of scope and a desire to keep a small‑team culture where everyone’s voice matters," says Dietsch.

To achieve this, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling early on. "Any system we build must be scalable and debuggable by a single developer.

We spent the first year simultaneously designing gameplay and constructing the internal toolset that would keep the project from collapsing under its own weight." The equity funding model gave Wolf Haus the runway to perfect these tools. "Krafton and Lifelike’s investment has essentially self‑funded the game," explains Wendschuh.

"We’re now only seeking modest project finance for marketing. The investors are aligned with our long‑term goal of building studio value, so they support our tool‑heavy approach even if it slows short‑term development." When asked about generative AI—a hot topic in game development—Dietsch gave a blunt answer: "We don’t use any generative AI in the creative process. Our work is fundamentally human‑driven." Wendschuh adds nuance, noting that the studio does employ AI‑powered services for administrative tasks like calendar management and email drafting, but nothing that touches the artistic side of production. Interestingly, Krafton, despite branding itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI for creative work, mirroring a similar stance taken by Krafton‑owned Neon Giant.

Both founders stress the importance of preserving human artistry. "We’re committed to protecting jobs for voice actors and artists," says Wendschuh.

"All 15,000 voice lines in Join Us were recorded by real performers, and the six‑kilometre‑square map was handcrafted." Dietsch reflects on the contrast between film and games: "In film, an idea can take years to materialise—scripts, casting, green‑lighting, shooting—whereas in games I can prototype a concept in a single morning and see it live in the engine instantly. That immediacy is intoxicating." Wendschuh observes that traditional filmmaking is front‑loaded with high‑stakes negotiations to secure A‑list talent and studio approval.

While anyone can technically shoot a movie with a backyard camera, breaking through without marquee names or distribution is rare. By comparison, the gaming landscape has far fewer gatekeepers, allowing small teams to achieve success without celebrity endorsements. Both creators agree that, at its core, the medium—whether film or interactive—serves the same purpose: to craft an experience, tell a story, and engage an audience. Dietsch sums it up: "I grew up wanting to make both movies and games.

Whether you’re directing a camera or a player, you’re delivering an experience. The tools have changed, but the creative impulse remains the same."