The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, giving viewers a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator. In the clip, robed followers zip around on pigs while brandishing machine guns, and the sequence culminates with a monstrous, Cthulhu‑like mass of tentacles.
One element that didn’t make the final edit was the infamous “snake gun,” a weapon that, according to Joe Dietsch—CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games—originated from a simple suggestion by a team member’s child. "His son asked, ‘What if there was a gun that shot snakes?’" Dietsch recalls. "Because we had built a modular gun system, I could prototype a snake‑shooter in about thirty minutes.
The kid went wild, and we kept the weapon in the game." This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult empire. It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first philosophy, which has allowed a tiny crew to produce a visually rich, high‑fidelity title that would normally require a much larger staff. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up the team’s ambition: “We wanted to be disruptors.
We told everyone we could build a AAA‑level experience with just twelve people, and most people laughed.” Their confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where they learned to punch well above their budgetary weight. After roughly eighty pitch meetings, the studio finally secured equity financing from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took a stake in Wolf Haus. The founders’ Hollywood roots run 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 renowned makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before he turned his attention to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx.
These connections gave the team a cinematic sensibility that they have transferred to game design. Join Us began as a side project for Dietsch, who was tinkering with Unreal Engine after discovering that the software could be downloaded for free. "I’d loved games forever, but there seemed to be a huge barrier to actually creating something," he says.
He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, built a few tiny prototypes, and eventually settled on a doomsday cult simulator—a concept that merged his love of survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, showed it to Abbott, and the two took the prototype to Dooma, a partner studio that helped refine the vision.
The narrative side of the project was bolstered by Dooma CFO and narrative director Dooma Wendschuh, whose career began in film production and screenwriting before transitioning to games in the early 2000s. Wendschuh founded Sekretagent Productions, providing writing services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins.
He later launched several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million (about $330 million USD). After cashing out, Wendschuh bought a remote restaurant on a tiny Canadian island, planning a quiet retirement.
That plan was upended when an old Hollywood‑hill roommate, Michael Abbott, called him about a video game project. "The demo blew my mind and pulled me out of retirement," Wendschuh says. Through Abbott’s network, the studio recruited Reid Schneider—former VP at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic, the creators of Journey to the Savage Planet—as a strategic advisor.
Schneider brought on Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer. With this core team in place, Wolf Haus turned its attention to funding, a daunting task given the industry’s downturn in 2023.
After initial outreach, the studio signed with CAA (Creative Artists Agency) in Los Angeles, re‑pitched in 2024, and finally closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Abbott credits CAA’s representation—who also handle titles like 007: First Light—and the presence of seasoned veterans like Schneider and Chartrand for opening doors that would otherwise be closed to a twelve‑person indie studio. "Our agent Derek Douglas had been my agent when I was making games for twelve years and even ran the video‑game department at William Morris," says Wendschuh. What truly sets Join Us apart is the way it is being built.
With only thirteen full‑time staff members, the studio deliberately kept the team small to ensure every voice could influence the creative direction. Dietsch explains that the early months of development were split between ideating gameplay and constructing the internal tools required to support a sprawling open world. "If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," he notes.
The studio invested heavily in a custom toolkit that allowed them to expand features across a six‑kilometre‑square map without the project collapsing under its own weight. The equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike gave Wolf Haus the runway to perfect these tools.
"The money we received was used to finance the game itself, making it essentially self‑funded," Wendschuh explains. While a modest amount of project finance is now being allocated for marketing, the core development costs have been covered by the investors, who are motivated to increase the studio’s enterprise value. This alignment encouraged the team to build extensive tooling, even if it slowed short‑term progress, because it enabled a small crew to achieve a scope normally reserved for much larger studios. When asked about the role of generative AI, Dietsch is unequivocal: the studio does not use AI for any creative tasks.
"We believe a human touch is essential to game making. Handing development over to an AI would defeat the purpose of why we love doing this work," he says.
Wendschuh adds that the only AI they employ is for administrative chores like calendar management and email drafting. Interestingly, Krafton—despite branding itself as an "AI‑first" company—insisted that Wolf Haus avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Krafton‑owned Neon Giant. The team’s commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game's massive map and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors. "Every square kilometre of the world is hand‑built, and every line of dialogue is performed by real people," Dietsch emphasizes.
This dedication reflects their belief that AI could threaten jobs for voice actors and artists, a risk they are unwilling to take. Dietsch also reflects on the differences between filmmaking and game development. In film, an idea can take years to reach production, requiring approvals from studios, directors, and actors.
In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped in a single morning, inserted into the engine, and instantly visualized. "That immediacy is exhilarating," he says. Wendschuh notes that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with extensive pre‑production negotiations to secure high‑profile talent, whereas games have far fewer gatekeepers. "You don’t need an A‑list actor or director to make a successful game," he observes.
Both mediums, however, share a common creative impulse: storytelling and immersive experience. Dietsch recalls that as a child he wanted to make either movies or games, and a simple coin toss—plus a Christmas camera—set him on his path.
He taught himself programming on a TI‑83 calculator, merging his love of both crafts. "Whether you’re making a movie or a game, you’re trying to give someone an experience, tell a story, and engage them," he concludes.
Join Us thus stands as a testament to what a small, tightly knit team can achieve when they blend Hollywood storytelling, indie‑film resourcefulness, and bespoke technology—without leaning on generative AI—to deliver a bold, chaotic cult‑sim experience.