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 followers zip around on pigs, unleash a barrage of machine‑gun fire, and the sequence culminates with an image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the edit was the infamous snake‑gun, a quirky weapon that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was inspired by a child’s off‑hand question. “One of the team members’ kids asked, ‘What would a snake gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool that let us spin up a new weapon in under thirty minutes, so I built a gun that actually fires snakes.
The kid went wild, and the weapon stayed in the final build,” Dietsch recalls. That anecdote captures the chaotic, sandbox‑style gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world survival experience where players can recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op mode—to join a 1970s‑styled cult.
It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first philosophy, which has allowed a small team to deliver 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 set out to be disruptors. We told everyone we could build a AAA‑level experience with just twelve people. Most people thought we were crazy.” The team’s confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where they learned to achieve big results on shoestring budgets.
“We come from the indie film world, where you have to punch well above your weight,” Abbott explains. After eighty pitches, the studio finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving Wolf Haus the runway it needed.
The founders’ Hollywood credentials 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 movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx.
Join Us originated from Dietsch’s early experiments in Unreal Engine. “I discovered Unreal was free to download and started tinkering with it using YouTube tutorials,” he says. Though he had no formal training, he built a few modest games before deciding to tackle something larger—a doomsday cult simulator that fused his love of survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics.
He created a proof‑of‑concept prototype, pushed it to Abbott, and the pair began to flesh out the concept. The studio’s narrative director and CFO, Dooma Wendschuh, brings a hybrid film‑and‑gaming pedigree. He began as a producer and screenwriter in Hollywood, then transitioned to video games in the early 2000s by founding Sekretagent Productions, which supplied writing for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins.
Later, he launched several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis‑formulation company Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million (about $330 million USD). After that windfall, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada and thought he was retired—until an old roommate, Michael Abbott, called him about a new game.
“I watched the demo and it blew my mind, so I came out of retirement,” Wendschuh recounts. He then recruited Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros. Games VP now heading Raccoon Logic, as a strategic advisor, and brought in Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer. With the core team in place, the next hurdle was financing, which proved difficult in a market downturn.
After initial outreach, the studio partnered with CAA in Los Angeles, refined its pitch, and eventually closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton in 2024. The partnership with CAA—whose roster includes titles like 007: First Light—proved valuable, as did the presence of seasoned industry veterans. “Derek Douglas, our agent at CAA, was also my agent when I spent twelve years making games,” says Wendschuh, noting Douglas’s prior role heading the video‑game department at William Morris.
Despite the high ambitions, Wolf Haus has kept its staff lean: only thirteen full‑time employees. Dietsch emphasizes that the small‑team model fosters a collaborative environment where everyone can influence creative decisions. To make a sprawling open‑world game feasible with such a limited crew, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling early on.
“If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person,” Dietsch explains. “We built a toolkit that lets us iterate quickly and prevents the project from collapsing under its own weight as the world expands.” The equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike allowed the studio to self‑finance development, with only a modest portion of later financing earmarked for marketing. “Our investors are aligned with us because they benefit from the studio’s increased enterprise value,” Wendschuh notes. “That’s why they support our tool‑building ethos, even if it slows down short‑term development.” When asked about generative AI—a hot topic in game development—Dietsch is unequivocal: the studio does not use it for any creative work.
“We believe a human touch is essential. Hand‑crafting experiences is why we get up in the morning,” he says. Wendschuh adds that while the team may use AI for mundane tasks like calendar management, it never touches design, art, or narrative.
Interestingly, Krafton, which has branded itself as an “AI‑first” company, specifically required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline before investing. The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s massive six‑kilometre‑square map and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors.
Dietsch argues that this level of artisanal detail is crucial, even for an indie‑scale project. He also highlights the immediacy of game development compared with film. “In movies, an idea can sit on a page for years before it’s shot, and you need approvals at every step.
In games, you can prototype an idea in the morning, drop it into the engine, and see it instantly. That rapid feedback loop is exhilarating.” Wendschuh contrasts the front‑loaded nature of film production—where securing a few high‑profile directors or actors often determines a project’s fate—with the relatively low barrier to entry in games. “Anyone can rent a camera and shoot a backyard movie, but without big names or distribution, success is unlikely. In games, the gatekeepers are fewer, so a small team can achieve a hit without A‑list talent.” Both founders agree that whether you’re making a film or a video game, the core mission is the same: to craft an experience, tell a story, and engage an audience.
Dietsch reflects, “I was six when I wanted to create either movies or games. It came down to a coin toss and maybe getting a camera for Christmas. I learned programming on a TI‑83, so I’ve always been drawn to both mediums.
At the end of the day, it’s all about delivering an experience that resonates with people."