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 clip, robed cultists ride on pigs, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with a monstrous, Cthulhu‑like mass of tentacles.
One element that didn’t make the final cut was the infamous “snake gun,” a quirky weapon that, according to Joe Dietsch—CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games—originated from a child’s off‑hand suggestion. "My teammate’s son asked, ‘What would a snake‑shooting gun look like?’" Dietsch recalls. "Because we had built a modular gun system, I was able to prototype a snake‑firing weapon in roughly thirty minutes.
The kid was ecstatic, and the weapon stayed in the game." This anecdote encapsulates the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival title where players can recruit followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to join a 1970s‑style cult. It also highlights the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has enabled a small team to produce a high‑fidelity experience that would traditionally require a much larger workforce.
Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up the ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors. Everyone told us a twelve‑person team couldn’t deliver a game of this scale. We proved them wrong." The team’s confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where they learned to punch far above their budgetary weight.
After 80 pitch meetings, Wolf Haus finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving the studio the financial runway needed to bring Join Us to life. The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep.
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, a production company founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx.
This blend of cinematic experience and entrepreneurial grit informs the studio’s narrative‑driven design philosophy. Join Us began as a personal experiment in Unreal Engine. "Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt blocked by the perceived barrier to entry for creating them," Dietsch explains. He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, built a few small prototypes, and eventually settled on the idea of a doomsday cult simulator—a concept that merged his love of survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics.
The proof‑of‑concept demo impressed Abbott, who then presented it to Dooma, a production partner that helped refine the vision. The studio’s narrative director and CFO, Dooma Wendschuh, brings a unique blend of film and tech experience.
He began as a screenwriter and producer before founding Sekretagent Productions, which supplied writing talent for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. In the 2010s he launched several tech ventures, including 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 former roommate Michael Abbott lured him back into game development, and he soon recruited former Warner Bros. Games VP Reid Schneider as a strategic advisor and Ubisoft veteran Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand as chief technology officer.
Funding proved challenging amid a broader industry downturn. The team began pitching in the summer of 2023, initially receiving polite interest but little commitment. After enlisting the Creative Artists Agency (CAA) as representation and re‑pitching in 2024, Wolf Haus secured seed capital from Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh credits CAA’s clout—alongside the credibility of veterans like Schneider and Chartrand—for opening doors that would otherwise have remained closed.
Despite the high ambitions, the studio has remained lean, employing only thirteen full‑time staff members. "We entered the project with a clear understanding of scope and a desire to keep the team small enough that everyone’s voice matters," says Dietsch. To make a large‑scale open world feasible with such a limited crew, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling from day one.
"Any system in the game has to be scalable and debuggable by a single developer," Dietsch notes. The first year of development was split between ideating gameplay and building the underlying toolset, a strategy that also positions Wolf Haus to reuse those tools for future projects.
The equity‑funded model gave Wolf Haus the breathing room to perfect its pipeline. "Krafton and Lifelike’s investment essentially self‑funded the game," Wendschuh explains. "We’re now only seeking modest project financing for marketing, but the core development was covered by those partners." This arrangement aligns investor incentives with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the continued development of in‑house tools even when they slow short‑term progress. When asked about generative AI—a hot topic in game development—Dietsch gave a blunt answer: "We don’t use any generative AI for creative work.
The human touch is essential to us." Wendschuh adds that the studio only employs AI for administrative tasks like calendar management and email drafting. Interestingly, Krafton, which has publicly branded itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required that Wolf Haus refrain from using generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Krafton‑owned Neon Giant. The studio’s commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s massive six‑kilometer‑square map and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors. "Even as a tiny indie, we felt it was crucial that every piece of audio be performed by real talent," Dietsch asserts, underscoring the team’s belief that AI‑generated voices would dilute the experience.
Dietsch also reflects on the differences between filmmaking and game development. In film, a concept can take years to reach production, requiring approvals from studios, directors, and actors before anything is shot.
In contrast, a game idea can be prototyped within hours: "You can have an idea this morning, drop it into the engine, and see it instantly. That immediacy is exhilarating." Wendschuh points out that traditional Hollywood projects are front‑loaded with high‑stakes negotiations for A‑list talent, making it difficult for newcomers to break in.
By contrast, the video‑game industry has far fewer gatekeepers; a small team can release a polished product without needing celebrity endorsements. "We don’t need an A‑list actor or director to succeed," he says. Both founders agree that storytelling is the core driver, regardless of medium.
"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 reminisces. "I learned to program on a TI‑83, so the love for both has always been there.
Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re delivering an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience. The medium changes, but the purpose stays the same."