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 preview, robed cultists ride on pigs, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with an image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One element that didn’t make the final cut was the infamous snake gun, a feature that Joe Dietsch, the chief executive officer and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was born from a child’s imagination. According to Dietsch, a member of the development team mentioned that his son had asked, “What if there was a snake gun?” The studio already possessed a flexible weapon‑creation tool, so within roughly thirty minutes Dietsch engineered a firearm that launches serpents.

The result impressed the youngster so much that the weapon remained in the final build. This anecdote encapsulates the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival experience where players can recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op mode—to join a 1970s‑style cult. The project also showcases Wolf Haus’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a small group of developers to produce a high‑fidelity title that would traditionally require a much larger staff. Michael Abbott, the company’s chief operating officer, explains that the team set out to be “disruptors.” He recalls the internal mantra: “We don’t need a hundred people; twelve can do the job.” Most outsiders dismissed the claim as impossible, but the team’s background in low‑budget indie filmmaking gave them confidence.

They had already delivered ambitious results on modest resources, and after 80 pitches they finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital. Wolf Haus’s founders have deep ties to the entertainment industry. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University in California alongside Louie Gibson—son of actor‑director Mel Gibson—who later co‑founded the studio. The two collaborated on the independent films Happy Hunting and Manifest West.

Abbott, meanwhile, is the son of veteran Hollywood makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, a production company originally founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to the Star Citizen universe. Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx.

The seed of Join Us sprouted when Dietsch began experimenting with Unreal Engine. He recounts that the engine’s free download eliminated a major barrier to entry, allowing him to learn the basics through YouTube tutorials. Although he had no formal game‑development background, he managed to create a few modest titles before deciding to pursue something larger.

The concept of a doomsday cult simulator appealed to him because it merged his love for survival mechanics, grindhouse cinema, and the narrative depth of film into a single intellectual property. He built a proof‑of‑concept prototype, expecting to encounter a technical wall at some point. When he presented the demo to Abbott, the latter immediately took it to Dooma, a partner who helped refine the vision. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, entered the picture after a career that spanned film production, screenwriting, and video‑game writing.

He founded Sekretagent Productions, contributing narrative work to titles such as Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later, Wendschuh launched several tech ventures, including the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million). Following his exit from the cannabis business, Wendschuh purchased a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire and enjoy a quiet life. Yet, in classic Hollywood fashion, an unexpected call from his former roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into development.

After reviewing a video demo of Join Us, Wendschuh was impressed enough to join the effort, bringing in Reid Schneider—formerly a vice‑president at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic—to serve as strategic advisor. Schneider recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer. With a core team forming, the next hurdle was financing.

The studio began pitching in the summer of 2023, a period marked by a broader industry downturn. Despite positive reactions to the concept, securing capital proved difficult. The team eventually enlisted Creative Artists Agency (CAA) as representation and resumed pitching in 2024, ultimately closing a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton.

Wendschuh credits the CAA connection—whose roster includes titles like 007: First Light—and the presence of seasoned veterans such as Schneider and Chartrand for the successful fundraising. Even with a modest staff of thirteen full‑time employees, Wolf Haus has managed to maintain a collaborative atmosphere where every member contributes creatively. Dietsch emphasizes that the team deliberately built tools early in development so that a single person could scale and debug any system.

This “tool‑first” approach meant that the first year of production involved simultaneous game design and tool creation, ensuring that the open‑world map could expand without the project collapsing under its own weight. The funding structure also afforded the studio the luxury of time to perfect these tools. Krafton and Lifelike’s equity investment was used to self‑finance the game, with only a small portion of later project finance earmarked for marketing. Because the investors’ returns are tied to the studio’s enterprise value, they encourage the team to invest heavily in internal tooling, even if it slows short‑term development.

When asked about the role of generative AI, Dietsch gave a clear answer: the studio does not employ it for any creative tasks. He believes that a human touch is essential to game development and that outsourcing creative decisions to AI would undermine the passion that drives the team.

Wendschuh adds that the only AI tools they use are mundane productivity aids, such as calendar scheduling 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 Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio.

Both founders stress that the decision is rooted in respect for creative professionals. They argue that AI could jeopardize jobs for voice actors and artists, and they have deliberately kept the game’s six‑kilometre‑square map hand‑crafted and its 15,000 voice lines recorded by human performers. Dietsch also reflects on the differences between filmmaking and game development.

In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring approvals, casting, and a lengthy production schedule. By contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within a single day, allowing developers to see immediate results in the engine.

This immediacy, he says, fuels excitement and accelerates iteration. Wendschuh notes that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with intense set work and a reliance on securing high‑profile talent to greenlight a project. While anyone can technically shoot a low‑budget movie with a backyard camera, the odds of achieving commercial success without star power or distribution are slim.

Game development, however, presents fewer gatekeepers; a small team can reach a broad audience without needing A‑list actors or directors. Both founders agree that the core creative impulse—telling a story and delivering an experience—remains the same across mediums.

Dietsch recalls that as a child he wanted to make either movies or games, and the path he followed was essentially a coin toss. He learned programming on a TI‑83 calculator and has since blended his passions for visual storytelling and interactive design. In his view, whether the medium is film or a video game, the ultimate goal is to engage an audience, convey a narrative, and create an immersive experience.