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 clip, robed cultists ride on pigs, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the scene culminates with a massive, Cthulhu‑like tentacle emerging from the horizon. 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’s a gun that shoots snakes?’" Dietsch recalls.
"Because we had built a modular weapon system that could be scaled quickly, I was able to prototype a snake‑shooting gun in roughly thirty minutes. The kid was blown away, 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 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 enabled a small crew to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a much larger staff. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors. Everyone told us you needed a hundred people to pull off something like this.
We said, ‘No, we can do it with twelve.’" The team’s confidence stemmed from a history of achieving big results on modest budgets. "We come from indie filmmaking, where you learn to punch well above your weight," Abbott said. After 80 pitches, the studio finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving Wolf Haus the financial runway it needed. The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep.
Dietsch studied film at Chapman University in California alongside Louie Gibson—son of actor Mel Gibson—who later co‑founded Wolf Haus and 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 his shift to Star Citizen.
Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. This blend of film experience and entrepreneurial grit shaped the studio’s creative DNA. Join Us began as a personal experiment in Unreal Engine. "I discovered Unreal was free to download and started tinkering after watching YouTube tutorials," Dietsch explains.
Though he had never built a game before, he quickly produced a few small prototypes. The concept that kept resurfacing was a doomsday cult simulator that fused survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics—a hybrid that could serve as a unique intellectual property bridging his two passions. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, anticipating that technical obstacles would eventually force him to abandon the idea.
When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter saw potential and introduced it to Dooma, the studio that would later become Wolf Haus. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, had previously worked as a film producer and screenwriter before transitioning 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.
Later, he launched several tech ventures, including the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million (about $330 million USD). After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote restaurant on a tiny Canadian island, intending to retire.
"I thought I was done, just going to walk my dog on the beach," he says. Yet a call from his old Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back.
Abbott told him a friend had built a video game, and after seeing the prototype, Wendschuh was convinced to join the effort. He brought on Reid Schneider—former VP at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic—and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer. With the core team in place, the next hurdle was financing.
Pitching began in the summer of 2023, a period marked by an industry downturn. "People liked what we were showing, but the market was tough," Dietsch notes. The studio enlisted the Creative Artists Agency (CAA) for representation, returning to pitch in 2024. Their persistence paid off when Lifelike Capital and Krafton closed a seed round, providing the capital needed to continue development.
The partnership with CAA, which also represents titles like 007: First Light, proved instrumental, as did the involvement of seasoned veterans Schneider and Chartrand. "My agent Derek Douglas had represented me for twelve years in games and previously headed the video‑game department at William Morris," Wendschuh adds, underscoring the value of industry connections. What truly sets Join Us apart is the scale of its creation relative to the size of the team—just thirteen full‑time staff members. "We entered the project with a clear understanding of scope and a desire to keep the team intimate, so every voice matters and everyone can touch the creative process," says Dietsch.
To make such ambition feasible, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling early on. "Every system in the game needed to be scalable and debuggable by a single person," he explains.
This tooling focus meant that as features proliferated across the open‑world map, the project wouldn’t collapse under its own weight. In fact, a large portion of the first year was spent simultaneously designing gameplay and building the internal tools that would later enable rapid iteration. Funding from Krafton and Lifelike allowed the studio to self‑finance development.
"The equity partners’ money went straight into the game, so we essentially built it with their capital," Wendschuh says. While a modest amount of project finance is now being used for marketing, the core development remained fully funded by the investors.
This equity model aligns the investors’ interests with the studio’s long‑term value, encouraging them to support the extensive tool‑building ethos. When asked about generative AI—a hot topic in game development—both Dietsch and Wendschuh were unequivocal: the studio does not use AI for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential.
Turning development over to an AI would defeat the purpose of why we love making games," Dietsch asserts. Wendschuh adds that the only AI tools they employ are mundane utilities for scheduling and email replies, not for art, design, or writing. Interestingly, Krafton, which brands itself as an “AI‑first” company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline.
This stance mirrors comments from Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio, which clarified that it does not participate in the parent company’s AI pivot. The team’s commitment to handcrafted content is evident in the game’s six‑kilometre‑square map, which was built entirely by hand, and the 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors.
"That was non‑negotiable for us, even as a small indie," Dietsch emphasizes. He believes this dedication preserves jobs for voice talent and artists, a concern many developers share.
Dietsch also reflects on the differences between film and game creation. In cinema, an idea can take years to reach production, requiring approvals and the involvement of high‑profile talent before a studio greenlights it.
By contrast, games allow immediate iteration: "You can have an idea this morning, drop it into the engine, and see it instantly. That immediacy is exhilarating." Wendschuh notes that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with intense, high‑stakes set work and a reliance on securing A‑list directors or actors to attract financing.
While anyone can technically shoot a movie with a consumer‑grade camera, breaking through without star power or distribution is rare. Games, however, have fewer gatekeepers; a small team can launch a successful title without needing celebrity endorsement.
Both founders agree that storytelling is the common thread linking their two crafts. "When I was six, I wanted to make either games or movies. It boiled down to a coin toss and whether I got a camera for Christmas," Dietsch recalls.
He taught himself programming on a TI‑83 calculator, blending his love for both mediums. "Whether it’s a film or a game, you’re delivering an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience. That core purpose doesn’t change." In summary, Wolf Haus’s journey illustrates how a small, tech‑savvy team with deep Hollywood roots can defy industry expectations.
By focusing on custom tools, rejecting reliance on generative AI, and securing aligned equity partners, they have crafted a unique, high‑quality cult simulator with a dozen developers—a testament to the power of ambition, craftsmanship, and a willingness to disrupt the status quo.