The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, giving viewers a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulator. In the clip, robed followers zip around on pig‑drawn carts, firing machine guns, before the screen fades to a massive, Cthulhu‑like tangle of tentacles. One element that didn’t make the final cut was the infamous "snake gun," a weapon that, according to Wolf Haus Games’ CEO and creative director Joe Dietsch, was born from a simple suggestion by a team member’s child.
"His son asked, ‘What if there’s a gun that shoots snakes?’" Dietsch recalls. "Because we had built a modular weapon system, I could prototype a snake‑shooter in roughly thirty minutes. The kid was thrilled, and the weapon stayed in the game." This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival experience where players can recruit AI followers or friends to join their 1970s‑style cult. It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first philosophy, which has enabled a small group of developers to produce a 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 don’t need a hundred people; twelve will do.’ Most people laughed and said it was impossible." Their confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where doing more with less is the norm.
Abbott, whose father is veteran Hollywood makeup artist Larry Abbott, and Dietsch, a Chapman University film graduate who studied alongside Louie Gibson (son of Mel Gibson and co‑founder of Wolf Haus), have spent years punching well above their weight. After 80 pitches, they finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving the studio the financial runway to pursue their vision.
The founding trio’s Hollywood pedigree runs deep. Dietsch and Gibson co‑wrote and co‑directed the indie features Happy Hunting and Manifest West. Abbott helped launch Ascendant Pictures, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before he turned his attention to Star Citizen, and later produced movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. Their combined experience in film production, budgeting, and creative storytelling laid the groundwork for a game that feels cinematic yet interactive.
Join Us originated from Dietsch’s experimentation with Unreal Engine. "Unreal Engine was free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt blocked by the cost and complexity of creating something myself," he explains. He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, built a few tiny prototypes, and eventually settled on the idea of a doomsday cult simulator—a mash‑up of survival mechanics and grindhouse cinema that merged his two passions into a single intellectual property.
The initial proof‑of‑concept was deliberately ambitious. Dietsch expected to hit a technical wall quickly, but when he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter recognized its potential and presented it to Dooma, a venture that would later become a key partner. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, had previously produced and written for major film franchises before moving into 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. 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 selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote restaurant on a tiny Canadian island, intending to retire. Yet, in classic Hollywood fashion, a call from his old roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into the industry. "I was ready for the beach and my dog, but when I saw the game Joe had built, it blew my mind and convinced me to come out of retirement," Wendschuh 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 assembled, the next hurdle was financing—a daunting task given the industry’s downturn in the summer of 2023. The studio began pitching that fall, initially without representation.
After a series of lukewarm responses, they enlisted Creative Artists Agency (CAA) in Los Angeles and returned to the pitch circuit in 2024. Their persistence paid off when Lifelike Capital and Krafton each took an equity stake, providing seed funding that allowed the developers to focus on building tools rather than scrambling for cash.
The importance of tooling cannot be overstated. "If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch notes.
The team invested heavily in a custom toolkit during the first year, essentially building the infrastructure that would let a handful of developers expand the game world without it collapsing under its own weight. This approach aligns with their equity‑funded model: investors are motivated to increase the studio’s enterprise value, so they support the time‑intensive process of creating reusable tools. "Whenever we encounter a problem we don’t know how to solve, we simply build a tool to address it," says Wendschuh. "It may slow development in the short term, but it enables a small team to deliver a large‑scale experience." One recurring question in discussions about tiny development teams is whether they rely on generative AI to fill gaps.
Wolf Haus’s answer is a categorical no. "We don’t use generative AI for any creative work," Dietsch asserts.
"Our game is built by humans because we believe the human touch is essential to the experience we want to deliver." The studio does use AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting, but nothing that influences design, art, or narrative. Interestingly, Krafton—an "AI‑first" company—explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline as a condition of their investment, mirroring similar stances taken by other Krafton‑owned studios such as Neon Giant. All of the game’s assets reflect this hands‑on philosophy. The six‑kilometer‑square map is handcrafted, and the 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human actors rather than synthesized voices.
Dietsch emphasizes that this commitment to craftsmanship is especially important for an indie title that wants to stand out in a crowded market. Transitioning from film to games also gave Dietsch a fresh perspective on production timelines.
In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring countless approvals and the involvement of high‑profile talent. By contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within a single day and iterated on almost instantly. "You can have an idea in the morning, drop it into the engine, and see it in action that same day," he says. This immediacy fuels the studio’s rapid‑iteration culture.
Wendschuh adds that while film production is heavily front‑loaded—requiring expensive talent and studio backing before cameras even start rolling—games have far fewer gatekeepers. "Anyone can rent a camera and shoot a backyard movie, but without star power or distribution, it’s unlikely to break through. In games, the barriers are lower; you don’t need an A‑list actor or director to succeed," he explains.
Both founders agree that the core creative impulse remains the same across mediums: telling a story and delivering an experience. "When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games. It boiled down to a coin toss and a Christmas camera," Dietsch reflects. "Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re crafting an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience.
The tools change, but the goal stays the same." In summary, Wolf Haus Games demonstrates that a small, tightly knit team with a strong cinematic background, disciplined tool development, and a clear stance against over‑reliance on AI can produce an ambitious, high‑quality title. Their journey—from a teenage suggestion about a snake‑shooting gun to securing equity backing from major investors—highlights how Hollywood sensibilities and indie‑game ingenuity can intersect to create something truly disruptive.