The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous co‑op cult simulator where robed followers zip around on pigs, unleash machine‑gun fire, and eventually confront colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One of the most memorable, yet omitted, moments was the appearance of a snake‑shooting gun—a quirky weapon that originated from an off‑hand suggestion by a developer’s child. Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, recounted the anecdote: “A team member’s son asked if we could make a snake gun.
Because we had built a flexible weapon‑creation tool, I was able to prototype a snake‑shooting firearm in roughly thirty minutes. The kid was thrilled, and the gun stayed in the final build.” That story encapsulates the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises. Set in an open‑world sandbox, the game lets players build a 1970s‑style cult, recruit followers, and invite friends to join the madness in co‑op mode. But beyond the wild premise, the development process itself is a study in how a small, tech‑savvy team can deliver a high‑fidelity experience without the massive staffing typical of AAA studios.
Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up the team’s philosophy: “We wanted to be disruptors. We told ourselves we could pull off a game of this scope with just twelve people, even though everyone else said it was impossible.” Their confidence stemmed from a background in indie filmmaking, where crews routinely punch far above their budgetary weight. The Wolf Haus founders had already survived eighty pitch meetings before finally securing equity investments from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in the studio. The founders’ Hollywood connections run deep.
Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of actor‑director 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, a production company originally founded by Chris Roberts before he turned his attention to Star Citizen. Abbott’s résumé also includes producing credits on movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. These pedigree ties gave the team a unique blend of storytelling expertise and production discipline that they carried over into game development.
Join Us was born out of Dietsch’s experimentation with Unreal Engine. “I discovered Unreal was free to download and started tinkering with it using YouTube tutorials,” he explained.
Despite having no formal training, he managed to craft a few small prototypes before deciding to tackle something more ambitious—a doomsday cult simulator that merged his love of survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo and shared it with Abbott, who then presented it to Dooma, a partner that helped refine the vision.
The studio’s narrative and technical leadership also have impressive credentials. Dooma Wendschuh, the company’s chief financial officer and narrative director, began his career as a film producer and screenwriter before moving into video games 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 launched several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million).
After a brief retirement on a remote Canadian island, a call from his old Hollywood‑hill roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into the industry, leading him to evaluate Dietsch’s demo and ultimately join the project. Wendschuh recruited former Warner Bros. Games VP Reid Schneider as a strategic advisor, and Schneider brought on Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer.
With this core team in place, the next hurdle was financing—a challenge made tougher by an industry downturn that began in mid‑2023. The studio partnered with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) for representation, leveraged the agency’s connections, and continued pitching throughout 2024 until Krafton and Lifelike Capital closed a seed round that gave the studio the runway it needed.
One of the key advantages of this partnership was the freedom to develop extensive internal tools. Dietsch emphasized that any system in the game had to be scalable and debuggable by a single developer. “We invested heavily in a toolkit that lets one person iterate quickly, so when the world expands, the project doesn’t collapse under its own weight.” This tooling philosophy extended beyond Join Us; the studio intends to reuse the same infrastructure for future projects, turning tool development into a long‑term asset. Funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital was structured as equity, allowing Wolf Haus to self‑finance the bulk of development.
“The investors are incentivized to increase the studio’s enterprise value, so they support us in building tools rather than demanding rapid feature churn,” Wendschuh noted. This model also gave the team leeway to prioritize quality over speed, resulting in a six‑kilometre‑square map that is entirely handcrafted and a script featuring 15,000 voice lines recorded by human actors. In an era where many studios tout generative‑AI pipelines, Wolf Haus deliberately avoided such shortcuts.
“We don’t use generative AI for creative work,” Dietsch asserted. “Our process is fundamentally human‑driven; handing the creative decisions over to an algorithm would defeat the purpose of why we love making games.” The team does use AI‑powered tools for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting, but nothing that influences design, art, or narrative. Interestingly, Krafton—despite branding itself as an “AI‑first” company—insisted that Wolf Haus remain AI‑free in its creative pipeline, echoing a broader industry conversation about preserving artistic jobs. The developers also highlighted the contrast between film and game production.
In cinema, a concept can take years to materialize, often hinging on securing high‑profile talent and studio approval. By contrast, a game idea can be prototyped within hours, tested in an engine, and iterated upon instantly. “You can have an idea at breakfast and see it in the engine by lunch,” Dietsch said, emphasizing the immediacy that fuels his passion for interactive media.
Wendschuh added that while film projects are front‑loaded with intense pre‑production phases, video games benefit from fewer gatekeepers. “Anyone can rent a camera and shoot a backyard movie, but without star power or distribution, it’s hard to break through. In games, you don’t need an A‑list actor or director to reach an audience; the platform itself levels the playing field.” Both founders agree that whether you’re crafting a movie or a game, the core objective remains the same: to deliver an experience, tell a story, and engage an audience. Dietsch reflected on his childhood, recalling that a coin toss between a camera and a gaming console set him on this dual‑path.
“I learned to program on a TI‑83, and that love never left me. Whether it’s film or games, the goal is to create an immersive narrative that resonates with people.” Join Us therefore stands as a testament to what a tight‑knit, technically proficient team can achieve when they combine Hollywood storytelling sensibilities, entrepreneurial grit from the cannabis sector, and a refusal to rely on generative AI. With a modest staff, robust tooling, and equity‑backed financing, Wolf Haus is poised to deliver a cult‑centric sandbox that could redefine how indie studios approach large‑scale game development.