The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator. In the clip, robed followers zip around on pigs while wielding machine guns, and the sequence culminates with an image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the final cut, according to Joe Dietsch—CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games—was the infamous "snake gun." "One of the developers’ kids asked, ‘What would a snake‑shooting gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool that let us spin up a new weapon in about thirty minutes, so I built it on the spot.
The kid went nuts, and the weapon stayed in the game," Dietsch recalls. That anecdote perfectly captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or friends in co‑op mode—to their 1970s‑style doomsday cult.
Beyond the wild premise, the real story is how a tiny studio managed to craft a high‑fidelity, large‑scale experience with only a dozen full‑time developers. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, sums it up: “We wanted to be disruptors. Everyone told us a twelve‑person team couldn’t produce a game of this scope. We proved them wrong.” Their confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where small crews routinely punch far above their budgetary weight.
After 80 pitches, the studio finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving the project the financial runway it needed. The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson—son of 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 started by Chris Roberts before his Star Citizen venture.
Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. This blend of cinematic know‑how and entrepreneurial grit set the tone for Wolf Haus’s approach to game development.
Join Us originated from Dietsch’s idle experimentation in Unreal Engine. “I discovered Unreal was free to download and started tinkering after watching YouTube tutorials,” he explains.
Though he had no formal training, he built a few modest prototypes before committing to a full‑blown cult simulator. The concept merged his love of grindhouse cinema, survival mechanics, and the idea of a doomsday sect, creating a single intellectual property that could bridge film and gaming.
He built a proof‑of‑concept demo and showed it to Abbott, who then presented it to Dooma, a production partner. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, began his career as a film producer and screenwriter before moving into games in the early 2000s, providing writing services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later, Wendschuh founded several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million (about $330 million USD).
After cashing out, he bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire. A sudden call from his old Hollywood roommate, Michael Abbott, about a video‑game prototype reignited his passion, and he promptly re‑entered the industry. Wendschuh recruited Reid Schneider—formerly a vice president at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet—to serve as a strategic advisor.
Schneider, in turn, brought on Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer. With this seasoned team in place, Wolf Haus turned its attention to funding, a daunting task given the market downturn of 2023‑24. After initial outreach, the studio signed with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) and resumed pitching throughout 2024, eventually closing a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. The partnership with CAA proved valuable; their agent Derek Douglas had previously represented Wendschuh during his twelve‑year gaming career and once headed the video‑game department at William Morris.
This industry clout, combined with the credibility of veteran advisors, helped Wolf Haus secure the capital needed to continue development. What truly distinguishes Join Us is the way it’s being built. With only thirteen full‑time staff members, the studio emphasizes a collaborative atmosphere where every voice matters.
Dietsch notes that early in development the team focused heavily on building robust, scalable tools. “If a system exists in the game, it must be debuggable and expandable by a single person,” he says. By investing significant time in a custom toolkit, the team ensured that as the open‑world map expanded, the underlying architecture wouldn’t crumble under its own complexity. This tool‑first philosophy not only accelerated current development but also laid the groundwork for future projects.
Funding from Krafton and Lifelike allowed Wolf Haus to self‑finance the game’s production. While a modest portion of later financing will support marketing, the core development budget came entirely from equity partners.
This arrangement aligns investor incentives with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the continued building of in‑house tools rather than relying on external shortcuts. In an era where many studios tout generative‑AI pipelines, Wolf Haus deliberately shuns the technology for creative work. “We don’t use generative AI in any artistic capacity,” Dietsch asserts.
“Our process is fundamentally human‑driven; handing creative decisions over to an algorithm would defeat the purpose of why we love making games.” Wendschuh adds that the team only employs AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting. Krafton, despite branding itself as an “AI‑first” company, also insisted that Wolf Haus avoid generative AI in the game’s creation, reinforcing the studio’s commitment to handcrafted content. Indeed, every element of Join Us’s six‑kilometre‑square map is manually designed, and the game features roughly 15,000 voice lines recorded by real actors. This dedication to human artistry reflects the founders’ belief that AI could jeopardize jobs for voice talent and artists—a stance shared by other Krafton‑backed studios such as Neon Giant, which publicly distanced itself from the parent company’s AI pivot.
Dietsch highlights a key advantage of game development over film: immediacy. In cinema, an idea may take years to materialize, requiring countless approvals and a massive cast and crew before a director can see it on set.
In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours, allowing creators to instantly test and iterate. Wendschuh notes that while film production is front‑loaded with high‑stakes negotiations for A‑list talent, games face far fewer gatekeepers.
“You don’t need a Hollywood star or a famous director to launch a successful game,” he says, emphasizing the democratizing power of interactive media. Both founders agree that storytelling is the common thread binding their two passions. Dietsch recalls that as a child he wanted to make either movies or games, and a simple coin toss—and a Christmas camera—set him on his path.
He learned programming on a TI‑83 calculator, blending technical skill with narrative ambition. Whether through a moving picture or an immersive gameplay experience, the goal remains the same: to craft an engaging story that resonates with an audience. Join Us therefore stands as a testament to what a small, tightly knit team can achieve when they combine Hollywood experience, savvy entrepreneurship, and a refusal to rely on shortcuts like generative AI. By building their own tools, securing supportive equity partners, and staying true to a handcrafted aesthetic, Wolf Haus is poised to deliver a wildly original cult‑sim that could redefine expectations for indie‑scale development on a grand, cinematic scale.