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, wield machine guns, and the sequence culminates with an image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make it to the public preview 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 suggestion. "One of our team members’ sons asked, ‘What would a snake gun look like?’ We had a rapid‑prototyping tool for firearms, so within about thirty minutes I built a gun that actually fires snakes.

He was thrilled, and the weapon stayed in the final build," Dietsch recounts. That anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or teammates in co‑op mode—to serve a 1970s‑style cult. It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a small crew to deliver a high‑fidelity experience 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. We told ourselves we could build a AAA‑level game with just twelve people, and everyone else thought we were crazy." The team’s confidence stems from a background in low‑budget, high‑impact productions.

"We come from indie film," Abbott explains, "so we’re used to punching far above our weight." After 80 pitches, Wolf Haus finally secured equity financing from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in the studio. The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs 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 also produced movies such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us began as a side project for Dietsch, who was tinkering with Unreal Engine after discovering it could be downloaded for free. "I’d loved games for as long as I’ve watched movies, but there seemed to be a huge barrier to actually creating something," he says. He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, built a few modest prototypes, and eventually returned to an idea that had been percolating: a doomsday cult simulator that merged survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics.

He created a proof‑of‑concept demo, showed it to Abbott, and the pair began seeking funding. The studio’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, entered the picture after a varied career that spanned film production, screenwriting, and video‑game writing.

He founded Sekretagent Productions, which contributed narrative work to titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. In the 2010s he launched several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (about $330 million USD).

After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, planning a quiet retirement. That plan was upended when his old Hollywood‑hillroommate, Michael Abbott, called and invited him to look at a game prototype. "The demo blew my mind and pulled me out of retirement," Wendschuh recalls.

Wendschuh then introduced the project to Reid Schneider, a former vice‑president at Warner Bros. Games who now leads Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet. Schneider joined as a strategic advisor and recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer.

With this core team in place, Wolf Haus turned its attention to financing during a market downturn in the summer of 2023. After initial outreach, they signed with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) in Los Angeles, re‑pitched in 2024, and eventually closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. According to Wendschuh, the CAA connection—whose roster includes titles like 007: First Light—was instrumental, as were veteran game industry figures like Schneider and Chartrand. "Derek Douglas, our agent at CAA, had represented me for twelve years in games and previously headed the video‑game department at William Morris," Wendschuh notes.

Despite the high aspirations, Join Us is being built by just 13 full‑time staff members. Dietsch emphasizes that the small size is intentional: "We wanted a studio where everyone has a voice, everyone touches the creative process, and the game feels like it was made by a tight‑knit group." To make such an ambitious open‑world title feasible with a lean crew, Wolf Haus 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. The team spent the first year simultaneously designing gameplay concepts and engineering the internal tools that would allow those concepts to scale across a six‑kilometre‑square map without collapsing under their own complexity.

This tooling‑first approach also aligns with the studio’s financing model. Krafton and Lifelike’s equity investment has allowed Wolf Haus to self‑fund development, using the capital primarily for tool creation and later for modest project‑finance to support marketing.

Both Dietsch and Wendschuh stress that, contrary to a growing industry trend, they have deliberately avoided generative AI in the creative pipeline. "We believe a game needs a human touch," Dietsch says. "Using AI to generate core content would defeat the purpose of why we love making games." Wendschuh adds that while they may use AI for mundane tasks like calendar management, none of it touches the artistic side. Interestingly, Krafton—publicly positioning itself as an "AI‑first" company—insisted that Wolf Haus not employ generative AI for creative work, mirroring similar statements from Krafton‑owned Neon Giant.

The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the world itself. The entire six‑kilometre map is manually built, and the game features roughly 15,000 voice lines recorded by human actors—a notable feat for an indie studio of this size.

Dietsch reflects on the differences between filmmaking and game development. In film, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring approvals, casting, and a long production schedule.

In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped in a single morning and instantly visualised in the engine. "You can take an idea, drop it into Unreal, and see it right away," he says, describing the immediacy that fuels his enthusiasm.

Wendschuh points out that movies are heavily front‑loaded: securing a high‑profile director or star is often a prerequisite for greenlighting, creating a high barrier to entry. By contrast, the game industry has fewer gatekeepers; a small team can release a polished product without needing A‑list talent. This democratization, he argues, makes it more likely for a modestly sized studio to achieve commercial success. Both founders trace their passion back to childhood.

"When I was six, I wanted to make either games or movies—it was a coin toss," Dietsch recalls. He learned programming on a TI‑83 calculator and grew up with both a camera and a console. He believes that regardless of medium, the core goal remains the same: to craft an experience, tell a story, and engage an audience.