You may remember seeing the Join Us trailer during the Xbox Showcase in June. The clip introduced a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulation, featuring robed followers riding pigs, firing machine guns, and culminating in a shot of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the final cut was the infamous snake gun, a detail that Joe Dietsch—CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games—shares with a grin. "One of the team members’ kids came up with the idea, ‘What if there’s a snake‑gun?’" Dietsch recalls.
"We have a modular weapon system that lets us prototype quickly, so within half an hour I built a gun that shoots snakes. The kid was blown away, and the weapon stayed in the game." That anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op—to join a 1970s‑style cult. It also illustrates why the studio’s tech‑first mindset matters.
By building reusable tools and a scalable engine, Wolf Haus has managed to produce a high‑fidelity, large‑scale title with a surprisingly small staff. "We set out to be disruptors," says Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer.
"We told everyone, ‘We don’t need a hundred‑person studio; twelve talented people can do it.’ Most people laughed, thinking it was impossible. But we’ve spent our careers punching far above our weight, so we knew it could work." The team’s experience comes from indie filmmaking, where tight budgets demand creative problem‑solving.
After 80 pitches, Wolf Haus finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving the studio the runway it needed. The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs 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, the production company started by Chris Roberts before his Star Citizen venture.
Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us began as a personal experiment for Dietsch in Unreal Engine. "I discovered Unreal was free to download and thought, ‘Why not give it a try?’" he says.
Having grown up loving both games and movies, he felt there was an artificial barrier preventing creators from building their own experiences. He taught himself through YouTube tutorials, crafted a few small prototypes, and eventually settled on a doomsday cult simulator—a concept that married his love of survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. The proof‑of‑concept was rough but promising.
Dietsch pushed it as far as he could before hitting technical limits, then showed it to Abbott. "Michael took it to Dooma," Dietsch notes, referring to the studio that later became a strategic partner.
Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s chief financial officer and narrative director, entered the picture after a varied career that spanned film production, screenwriting, and video‑game writing. He founded Sekretagent Productions, contributing narrative work to 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 the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million). After a brief retirement on a remote Canadian island, a call from his old Hollywood‑Hills roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into the industry. Wendschuh was instantly impressed by the Join Us demo and agreed to join the effort.
He brought on Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros. Games vice‑president now heading Raccoon Logic, as a strategic advisor, and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand—formerly a programmer at Ubisoft Montreal—as chief technology officer. With this core team in place, the next hurdle was financing, a daunting task given the industry’s downturn in mid‑2023.
The studio began pitching in the summer of 2023, facing a market wary of new projects. "People liked what we were showing, but the timing was tough," Dietsch explains. The team eventually partnered with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) in Los Angeles, which helped refine their pitch and secure meetings throughout 2024. Their persistence paid off when Lifelike Capital and Krafton came on board, providing a seed round that allowed Wolf Haus to continue development without compromising its vision.
Wendschuh credits CAA’s representation—also handling titles like 007: First Light—and the presence of veterans like Schneider and Chartrand for opening doors that would otherwise have remained closed. "My agent Derek Douglas, who helped me for twelve years in games, also heads the video‑game department at William Morris," he notes. Despite the high‑profile backing, the studio remains lean: just 13 full‑time employees.
Dietsch emphasizes that this small‑team approach is intentional. "We wanted everyone to have a voice, to touch the creative process, and to feel ownership of the final product." To make such an ambitious open‑world possible with so few hands, Wolf Haus invested heavily in internal tooling from day one. "Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch says.
The first year of development was split between ideating gameplay and building the pipelines that would keep the project from collapsing under its own weight. This tool‑first philosophy also benefits future projects, as the same infrastructure can be repurposed. The equity model with Krafton and Lifelike gave the studio the financial breathing room to perfect those tools.
"The money they invested funds the entire development, essentially making the game self‑funded," Wendschuh explains. "We’re now adding a modest amount of project finance for marketing, but the core development costs are covered by our investors." One surprising aspect of the funding arrangement is that the investors actively encourage the studio’s tool‑building ethos. Because the investors’ returns depend on the studio’s enterprise value, they support any approach that enhances long‑term capability, even if it slows short‑term progress.
When asked about generative AI—a hot topic in game development—both Dietsch and Wendschuh are unequivocal: they do not rely on it for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential," Dietsch says. "Using AI to generate assets would defeat the purpose of why we love making games." Wendschuh adds that the studio only uses AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting. "We have no AI in the creative pipeline." Krafton, despite branding itself as an "AI‑first" company, also insisted that Wolf Haus avoid generative AI in its artistic processes.
This mirrors the stance of Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio that publicly distanced itself from the parent’s AI push. Both founders stress that AI threatens creative professions, from voice actors to concept artists.
"We want to protect those jobs," says Wendschuh. "Our six‑kilometre‑square map is handcrafted, and the 15,000 voice lines are recorded by real actors. That authenticity matters, even for an indie title." Dietsch reflects on the contrast between film and game development. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring countless approvals and the involvement of high‑profile talent.
In games, an idea can be prototyped the same day it is conceived. "You can wake up with a concept, drop it into the engine, and see it instantly," he says.
This immediacy fuels his enthusiasm for interactive media. Wendschuh notes that film production is heavily front‑loaded: securing a director, cast, and studio backing before any shooting begins. While anyone can technically shoot a movie with a consumer‑grade camera, breaking through without marquee names or distribution is rare.
By contrast, the video‑game market has far fewer gatekeepers, allowing small teams to reach global audiences without A‑list talent. Both agree that the core creative impulse—telling a story, delivering an experience—remains the same across mediums. "When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games.
It came down to a coin toss and whether I got a camera for Christmas," Dietsch laughs. "I learned programming on a TI‑83, so I’ve always been drawn to both. Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re crafting an experience and a narrative, and that doesn’t change." Join Us therefore stands as a testament to what a small, tightly knit, tool‑savvy team can achieve when they combine Hollywood storytelling sensibilities, entrepreneurial grit from the cannabis sector, and a refusal to outsource creativity to AI.
The game’s chaotic cult‑themed gameplay, hand‑crafted world, and human‑voiced dialogue promise a uniquely personal experience that larger studios often struggle to deliver.