The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulation. In the preview, robed followers charge on pigs while firing machine guns, culminating in a terrifying vision of colossal, Cthulhu‑like 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 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 a flexible weapon‑creation tool, I was able to prototype a snake‑shooting gun in roughly thirty minutes.
The kid went wild, and the weapon stayed in the game." This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival title where players can recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult. It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a small team to deliver a high‑fidelity experience that would normally require a much larger workforce. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: "We set out to be disruptors.
Everyone told us a twelve‑person team couldn’t produce a game of this scope, but we knew from our indie‑film backgrounds that punching above our weight was possible." After 80 pitches, the studio finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving Wolf Haus the financial runway to continue development. 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 founded by Chris Roberts before he turned his attention to Star Citizen. Abbott also produced films such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. This blend of cinematic experience and entrepreneurial grit laid the groundwork for their venture into interactive entertainment.
Join Us began as a personal experiment in Unreal Engine. "I discovered that Unreal was free to download, and I’d spent years playing games and watching movies, but creating something felt out of reach," Dietsch explains.
He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, built a few tiny prototypes, and eventually settled on a doomsday‑cult concept that merged his love of survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. The initial proof‑of‑concept was rough but promising, and when he showed it to Abbott, the latter recognized its potential and introduced it to Dooma, a partner studio. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s chief financial officer and narrative director, arrived from a career that spanned film production, screenwriting, and video‑game narrative design. In the early 2000s he founded Sekretagent Productions, providing writing services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins.
Later, he built and sold a cannabis‑formulation company, Ebbu, for roughly C$430 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. Impressed by Dietsch’s demo, Wendschuh helped recruit veteran game executive Reid Schneider—formerly of Warner Bros.
Games—and former Ubisoft Montreal programmer Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand as chief technology officer. Funding proved to be the next hurdle. The team began pitching in the summer of 2023, a period marked by a broader industry downturn.
Initial outreach yielded interest but no commitments. After enlisting the Creative Artists Agency (CAA) as representation and refining their pitch, Wolf Haus secured a seed round from Lifelike Capital and Krafton in 2024. Wendschuh credits the agency’s clout and the presence of seasoned advisors like Schneider and Chartrand for opening doors that might otherwise have remained shut.
Despite the high‑profile backing, the studio has remained deliberately lean—only thirteen full‑time staff members are working on Join Us. "We wanted everyone to have a voice and to be able to touch the creative process directly," says Dietsch. To make such an ambitious open‑world project feasible with a small crew, the team invested heavily in custom tooling from the outset.
"Any system we build has to be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch notes. The first year of development was therefore split between designing gameplay concepts and building the internal toolset that would keep the project from collapsing under its own weight as it grew. The equity‑funded model gave Wolf Haus the breathing room to perfect those tools.
"Krafton and Lifelike’s investment has essentially self‑funded the game," Wendschuh explains. While a modest amount of project finance is being used for marketing, the core development has been covered by the equity partners. This arrangement aligns investor incentives with the studio’s long‑term vision: building reusable tools that can serve future titles as well as Join Us.
When asked about generative AI, the team is unequivocal: they do not rely on it for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential for game development," Dietsch says. "We might use AI for mundane tasks like calendar management, but not for design, art, or writing." Interestingly, Krafton, which has publicly embraced an "AI‑first" identity, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline as a condition of their investment.
This mirrors a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio, which has also distanced itself from AI‑driven content creation. All of Join Us’s assets reflect that hands‑on approach.
The six‑kilometre‑square map is handcrafted, and the game features roughly 15,000 voice lines recorded by human actors—an impressive feat for an indie‑scale operation. Dietsch emphasizes that preserving human performance was a core priority, even though it added considerable workload. Comparing his film background to game development, Dietsch highlights the immediacy of the latter medium.
In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring multiple approvals and extensive pre‑production. In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours: "You can have an idea at breakfast, drop it into the engine, and see it in action by lunch. That instant feedback loop is exhilarating." Wendschuh adds that while film production is front‑loaded with high‑stakes negotiations for star talent and studio green‑lights, video games face far fewer gatekeepers.
"Anyone can make a game with a modest budget, but making a successful movie without big names or distribution is extremely rare. In games, you don’t need an A‑list actor or director to reach an audience," he observes. Both founders agree that the underlying creative drive is the same across mediums: storytelling and delivering an experience that resonates with an audience. Dietsch reflects on his childhood, recalling how a coin toss between a camera and a game console set him on a path that eventually blended both worlds.
"Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re crafting a narrative, engaging emotions, and inviting people into a world you’ve built. The tools may differ, but the goal remains the same."