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 preview, robed followers zip around on pig‑mounted platforms, wielding machine guns, before the scene culminates in a nightmarish vision of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.
One element that didn’t make the final cut of the trailer 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. "My team member’s son asked if we could make a gun that fired snakes," Dietsch recounts. "Because we built a modular weapon system, I could prototype a snake‑shooting gun in roughly thirty minutes. The kid was thrilled, and the weapon stayed in the game." This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox survival title where players can recruit AI followers or friends into a 1970s‑style cult.
It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has enabled a high‑fidelity experience to be produced by a remarkably small crew. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: "We set out 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 independent filmmaking, where they learned to achieve big results on modest budgets.
"We come from indie film circles and are used to punching well above our weight," Abbott explains. After 80 pitches, Wolf Haus finally secured equity investment from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in the studio. The founders’ Hollywood credentials run deep.
Dietsch studied film at Chapman University 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 work on 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 that Unreal Engine could be downloaded for free and decided to tinker with it," he says. "I’d loved games for years, but the barrier to actually creating something felt huge.
I started learning from YouTube tutorials and built a few tiny prototypes." Although he had no formal game‑dev experience, Dietsch managed to ship a couple of small titles before committing to a larger vision. "I kept circling back to the idea of a doomsday cult simulator because it merged my love for survival mechanics, grindhouse cinema, and the kind of narrative mash‑up I enjoy in both movies and games." He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, assuming it would eventually hit a technical wall. When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter recognized its potential and took it to Dooma, a partner studio. Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, entered the picture after a long career as a film producer and screenwriter.
In the early 2000s he founded Sekretagent Productions, providing writing services for titles such as Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later, he launched several tech ventures, including the cannabis formulation firm Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million).
Wendschuh’s next chapter was unexpectedly tranquil: he bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire and enjoy beach walks with his dog. Yet a call from his old Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back into the industry. "I was shown a video of Joe’s prototype, and it blew my mind," Wendschuh recalls, prompting him to exit retirement and join the effort.
He introduced Reid Schneider—formerly a vice‑president at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic—to act as a strategic advisor, and Schneider recruited Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, as chief technology officer.
With the core team in place, the next hurdle was financing, which proved difficult amid an industry downturn in the summer of 2023. Initial pitches generated polite interest but no commitments. After partnering with CAA (Creative Artists Agency) in Los Angeles and re‑pitching in 2024, Wolf Haus finally closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton.
Wendschuh credits the CAA connection—whose roster includes titles like 007: First Light—and the presence of seasoned veterans such as Schneider and Chartrand for the breakthrough. "My agent Derek Douglas, who represented me during my twelve‑year game‑dev career, also heads the video‑game department at William Morris, which opened doors," Wendschuh notes.
Even with equity backing, the studio remains lean: only thirteen full‑time staff members are working on Join Us. Dietsch emphasizes that the small size is intentional, fostering a collaborative environment where every voice influences the creative direction. To make a sprawling open‑world title feasible for such a compact crew, Wolf Haus invested heavily in custom tooling from day one.
"Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single developer," Dietsch explains. "We built a robust toolkit early so that as features proliferated across a six‑kilometre‑square map, the project wouldn’t crumble under its own weight." This tooling‑first approach, funded largely by the equity partners, allowed the team to iterate rapidly while maintaining high visual fidelity. Krafton and Lifelike’s equity model gave Wolf Haus the runway to perfect these tools. "The game is essentially self‑funded through their investment," says Wendschuh.
"We’ve only taken on limited project finance for marketing, but development has been covered by the equity capital." This structure aligns investor incentives with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the team to continue building reusable tools even when they momentarily slow development. When asked about the role of generative AI—a hot topic in many studios—Dietsch gives a clear answer: none. "We believe a human touch is essential for games.
Handing creative work over to an AI would defeat the purpose of why we love making games," he says. Wendschuh adds that while the team uses AI for mundane tasks like calendar management and email drafting, it never touches the artistic side of development. Krafton, despite branding itself as an "AI‑first" company, also insisted that Wolf Haus avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline. This mirrors a similar stance taken by Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio, which publicly denied involvement in Krafton’s AI initiatives.
Both studios argue that AI threatens jobs for voice actors and artists, a concern Wendschuh shares. "Our six‑kilometre‑square map is handcrafted, and all 15,000 voice lines are recorded by human performers. That authenticity mattered to us, even as a small indie," he affirms.
Dietsch reflects on the differences between filmmaking and game development. In film, an idea can take years to materialize, requiring approvals, casting, and extensive pre‑production before a director ever sees the final product. By contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours. "You can have an idea this morning, drop it into the engine, see it instantly, and start iterating.
That immediacy is exhilarating," he says. Wendschuh notes that movies are front‑loaded with high‑stakes logistics—securing A‑list talent, obtaining studio greenlights, and navigating distribution channels—making it difficult for a low‑budget, unknown project to break through.
Games, however, have far fewer gatekeepers. "You don’t need a star‑studded cast or a famous director to succeed; the medium itself levels the playing field," he explains. Both founders agree that, regardless of medium, the core creative drive remains the same: to craft an experience, tell a story, and engage an audience.
"When I was six, I wanted to make either movies or games. It came down to a coin toss and whether I got a camera for Christmas," Dietsch reminisces. "I learned programming on a TI‑83, so I’ve always been drawn to both. In the end, whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re delivering an experience and a narrative, and that essence never changes."