The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulation. In the preview, robed followers charge on pig‑mounted platforms, unleash machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with a massive, Cthulhu‑like tentacle monster looming on the horizon.
One element that didn’t make the final cut was the infamous snake‑gun, a quirky weapon that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was born from a child’s off‑hand suggestion. "One of our team member’s son asked, ‘What if there was a snake gun?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool for firearms, so within half an hour I built a gun that actually fires snakes. The kid went nuts, and we kept it in the game," Dietsch recalls.
This anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top style that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to their 1970s‑inspired cult. It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first philosophy, which has allowed a small group 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 ambition: "We set out to be disruptors.
Everyone told us it was impossible to build a game of this scope with just twelve people. We came from indie‑film backgrounds, so we’re used to punching far above our weight." After 80 pitch meetings, the studio finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in Wolf Haus.
The founders’ Hollywood connections run 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 founded by Chris Roberts before he turned his attention to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx.
Join Us originated from Dietsch’s early experiments in Unreal Engine. "Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games, but the barrier to actually building something felt huge.
I started learning from YouTube tutorials and made a few tiny prototypes," he explains. Though he had no formal game‑development background, Dietsch eventually created a small demo that combined a doomsday‑cult premise with survival mechanics and grind‑house cinematic flair.
He showed the proof‑of‑concept to Abbott, who then presented it to Dooma, the studio that would later become Wolf Haus. Dooma Wendschuh, the studio’s CFO and narrative director, began his career as a film producer and screenwriter before shifting to 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, most notably the cannabis‑formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million).
After that windfall, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, planning a quiet retirement. Yet a call from his old Hollywood‑Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back into development. "I watched the demo Joe sent me and was blown away.
It convinced me to leave retirement and re‑join the industry," Wendschuh says. Through Abbott’s network, the studio added Reid Schneider—former VP at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic, the makers of Journey to the Savage Planet—as a strategic advisor.
Schneider recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer. With this core team in place, the next hurdle was financing, a daunting task given the industry’s downturn in 2023. The studio initially pitched independently, then enlisted Creative Artists Agency (CAA) in Los Angeles to broaden their reach. After a second round of pitches in 2024, they closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton.
Abbott notes that CAA’s representation—also handling titles like 007: First Light—proved instrumental, as did the credibility of veterans like Schneider and Chartrand. "Our agent Derek Douglas had represented me for twelve years and previously ran the video‑game division at William Morris," Wendschuh adds.
What truly sets Join Us apart is the way it’s being built: a full‑scale, open‑world game developed by just thirteen full‑time staff members. Dietsch emphasizes that the team deliberately kept the roster small to preserve a collaborative culture where every voice matters and everyone can touch the creative process. To make such an ambitious project feasible, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling early on. "Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single developer.
We built a toolkit that lets us expand features across a massive map without the project collapsing under its own weight," Dietsch explains. The first year of development was therefore split between ideating gameplay and constructing the underlying tools—a strategy that also prepares the studio for future projects.
The equity funding model gave Wolf Haus the runway to perfect these tools. "Krafton and Lifelike’s investment funds the game directly, making it essentially self‑funded. We’re now adding a modest amount of project finance for marketing, but the core development was covered by their equity stakes," says Wendschuh.
This arrangement aligns investor incentives with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the team to keep building robust tools even when it slows immediate progress. When asked about the role of generative AI, Dietsch is unequivocal: the studio does not use it for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential.
Turning the creative process over to an AI would defeat the reason we get up in the morning," he says. Wendschuh adds that the studio only employs AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting. Interestingly, Krafton—publicly branding itself as an "AI‑first" company—specifically required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in game creation, mirroring a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio.
Both leaders stress that the decision is about preserving jobs and artistic integrity. "We respect creative professionals and don’t want AI to replace voice actors or artists," Wendschuh notes. Consequently, the six‑kilometre‑square map in Join Us is handcrafted, and the game’s 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human talent—a point of pride for the tiny indie team. Dietsch also reflects on the differences between film and games.
In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring countless approvals and the involvement of high‑profile talent before a studio greenlights production. By contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours, allowing immediate iteration. "You can have an idea this morning, drop it into the engine, and see it instantly. That immediacy is exhilarating," he says.
Wendschuh observes that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with intense set‑life and a reliance on a few marquee names to secure financing. While anyone can technically shoot a low‑budget movie, breaking through without star power or distribution is rare. Games, however, face fewer gatekeepers; a small team can reach a global audience without A‑list actors or directors.
"The odds of a successful indie game are much higher than those of an indie film," he argues. Both creators agree that the core creative impulse remains the same across mediums: to craft an experience, tell a story, and engage an audience. "When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games.
It came down to a coin toss and getting a camera for Christmas," Dietsch reminisces. "Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re delivering a narrative and an emotional journey.
That fundamental goal never changes."