The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator where robed followers ride pigs, fire machine guns, and eventually confront colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One element that didn’t make the final cut of the teaser was the infamous snake gun, a quirky weapon that originated from a simple suggestion by a developer’s son.
Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, recounts the moment: “My team member’s kid asked, ‘What if there’s a snake gun?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool that let us scale a weapon in minutes, so I built a snake‑shooting gun in about half an hour. It blew his mind and it stayed in the game.” That anecdote encapsulates the chaotic, improvisational style of gameplay that Join Us aims to deliver. The title is an open‑world sandbox survival experience set in a 1970s‑style cult.
Players can recruit AI followers or invite friends into co‑op mode, guiding the group through a bizarre, law‑defying lifestyle. The game’s design philosophy is deeply rooted in the studio’s tech‑first mindset, which has allowed a small team to produce a high‑fidelity title that would traditionally require a much larger staff. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, explains the ambition: “We wanted to be disruptors.
Everyone told us it was impossible to build a game of this scope with only twelve people. Our background in indie film taught us how to punch far above our weight, so we proved them wrong.” Wolf Haus’s founders bring a surprisingly cinematic pedigree to the table. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University, where he met 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, meanwhile, is the son of veteran Hollywood makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, a production company originally founded by Chris Roberts before his shift to Star Citizen.
Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. This blend of film experience and entrepreneurial grit gave the team a unique perspective on storytelling and production efficiency. The seed of Join Us sprouted when Dietsch began experimenting with Unreal Engine after discovering it was free to download. “I’d been a gamer my whole life, but the barrier to actually creating something felt huge,” he says.
He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, built a few modest prototypes, and eventually fixated on a doomsday cult simulator—a concept that married his love for survival mechanics, grindhouse cinema, and the freedom of interactive narrative. The early proof‑of‑concept was rough but promising, and when he showed it to Abbott, the latter immediately took it to Dooma, a partner that helped shape the project’s direction.
Key to the studio’s evolution was Dooma CFO and narrative director Dooma Wendschuh, whose career spans film production, screenwriting, and video‑game narrative design. He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing writing services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins.
In the 2010s he launched several tech ventures, most notably Ebbu, a cannabis‑formulation company sold for C$430 million. After a brief retirement on a remote Canadian island, a phone call from his old Hollywood‑hill roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into the industry. Impressed by a demo of Join Us, Wendschuh re‑entered development, recruiting former Warner Bros.
Games VP Reid Schneider as a strategic advisor and bringing on Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer. Funding the venture proved challenging amid a market downturn in 2023. The team pitched the game over 80 times before securing equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital.
Their representation by CAA—home to agents for titles like 007: First Light—opened doors and added credibility. “Derek Douglas, our CAA agent, had been my agent during my twelve years in game development,” Wendschuh notes, underscoring the importance of industry connections.
Despite the high ambitions, the studio has remained lean, operating with just thirteen full‑time staff members. Dietsch emphasizes that this small‑team model is intentional: “We wanted a setting where everyone’s voice matters, where each person can touch the creative process, and where the game feels like a product of a tightly knit group.” To make such a scope feasible, Wolf Haus invested heavily in custom tooling from day one. “If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person,” Dietsch explains.
The first year of development was split between ideating gameplay and building the internal tools that would later allow the open‑world map to expand without collapsing under its own weight. The equity funding model gave the studio the runway to perfect these tools. Krafton and Lifelike’s capital financed the entire development, with only a modest amount of project finance earmarked for marketing. This arrangement aligns investor incentives with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the team to continue building reusable tools even if it slows short‑term progress.
When asked about generative AI, the team’s response is unequivocal: they do not employ it for any creative purpose. “We believe a human touch is essential,” Dietsch says.
“Turning development over to an AI would defeat the reason we get up every morning.” Wendschuh adds that the studio uses AI only for administrative tasks such as calendar management and email drafting. Interestingly, Krafton—publicly branding itself as an “AI‑first” company—specifically required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring similar stances taken by other Krafton‑owned studios. The 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. Dietsch stresses that this level of manual effort is a point of pride, especially for an indie title.
He also highlights a key advantage of game development over film: immediacy. “In film, an idea can take years to materialize, subject to countless approvals and scheduling constraints,” he observes. “In games, you can conceive an idea this morning, drop it into the engine, and see it instantly. That rapid feedback loop is exhilarating.” Wendschuh contrasts the two mediums further, noting that film production is heavily front‑loaded with high‑profile talent negotiations and studio gatekeeping, whereas games face fewer barriers to entry.
“Anyone can rent a camera and shoot a backyard movie, but without star power or distribution, success is unlikely,” he says. “Games, on the other hand, have a much lower threshold for entry, allowing small teams to reach audiences directly.” Both founders agree that the core creative impulse remains the same across film and games: storytelling and immersive experience. Dietsch reflects on his childhood, recalling a coin‑toss decision between cameras and consoles that set his path.
“Whether you’re making a movie or a game, you’re trying to give someone an experience, tell a story, and engage them. The medium changes, but the mission stays the same.” Join Us thus stands as a testament to what a tightly knit, technically adept team can achieve without relying on generative AI or massive staffing. It blends Hollywood’s narrative flair with indie‑game ingenuity, proving that a small crew armed with the right tools and a clear vision can disrupt the industry and deliver a uniquely chaotic, handcrafted experience.