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 ride pigs, unleash machine‑gun fire, and eventually confront towering, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. One element that didn’t make the final cut was the infamous snake gun, a quirky weapon that originated from an off‑hand suggestion by a team member’s child. Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, recounted how his team’s rapid‑prototyping tools allowed them to design a functional snake‑shooting firearm in roughly thirty minutes, delighting the youngster and securing the weapon’s place in the final game. That anecdote encapsulates the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox survival experience where players can recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op mode—to join a 1970s‑style cult.
It also highlights Wolf Haus’s technology‑first philosophy, which has enabled a small crew to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a much larger staff. Michael Abbott, the studio’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: “We wanted to be disruptors. We told everyone we could build this game with just twelve people, and they laughed.” The team’s confidence stems from a background in indie filmmaking, where they learned to achieve ambitious results on shoestring budgets. "We come from indie film,” Abbott explained, “and we’re used to punching well above our weight.” After eighty pitches, Wolf Haus finally secured equity financing 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 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, a production company founded by Chris Roberts before he moved on to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx.
Join Us grew out of Dietsch’s early experiments in Unreal Engine. "I discovered Unreal was free to download and started learning from YouTube tutorials," he said.
Although he had no formal training, he managed to create a few modest games before deciding to tackle something bigger—a doomsday cult simulator that blended his love of survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, ran into technical roadblocks, and showed the prototype to Abbott, who then presented it to Dooma, a partner studio. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s chief financial officer and narrative director, entered the video‑game arena after a career as a film producer and screenwriter. In the early 2000s he founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins.
He later launched several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million (approximately $330 million USD). After a brief retirement on a remote Canadian island, a call from his old Hollywood‑hill roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back into development. Impressed by Dietsch’s demo, Wendschuh helped recruit veteran industry figures such as Reid Schneider—former VP at Warner Bros. Games and now head of Raccoon Logic—and Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer who now serves as Wolf Haus’s chief technology officer.
Funding proved challenging amid a broader industry downturn. The studio began pitching in the summer of 2023, initially receiving polite interest but little commitment. After signing with Creative Artists Agency (CAA) and re‑pitching in 2024, Wolf Haus closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh credited the CAA relationship—whose roster includes titles like 007: First Light—and the presence of seasoned veterans as key factors in securing the investment.
Despite the high aspirations, the studio remains lean, employing only thirteen full‑time staff members. Dietsch emphasized that a small, tightly knit team allows everyone to have a voice and directly shape the creative direction. To make a large‑scale open world feasible with such a limited headcount, Wolf Haus invested heavily in custom tooling from the outset.
"Every system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch explained. The first year of development was split between ideating gameplay and building the underlying toolset, a strategy that also prepares the studio for future projects. The equity funding model gave Wolf Haus the runway to perfect these tools. "Krafton and Lifelike invested directly into the company, which we used to finance the game itself," Wendschuh noted.
While the studio has begun to explore project‑finance for marketing, the core development budget remains fully covered by the equity partners. This arrangement aligns investors’ incentives with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the continued development of in‑house tools even when they temporarily slow down production. When asked about generative AI, the team was unequivocal: they do not employ it in the creative process. "We believe a human touch is essential for games," Dietsch said.
"Using an AI to generate content would defeat the purpose of why we get up in the morning." Wendschuh added that the only AI tools they use are mundane productivity aids for scheduling and email, not for design or art. Interestingly, Krafton—publicly positioning itself as an "AI‑first" company—specifically required that Wolf Haus avoid generative AI in its creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Krafton‑owned Neon Giant. The studio’s commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s massive six‑kilometer‑square map and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors. Dietsch stressed that preserving this level of artisanal detail was a core principle, even for an indie‑scale operation.
Comparing his experiences in film and games, Dietsch highlighted the immediacy of interactive media. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialize, subject to layers of approval and scheduling. In game development, a concept can be prototyped in a single morning, tested in the engine, and iterated upon instantly. Wendschuh observed that film production is heavily front‑loaded, with extensive pre‑production work required to secure A‑list talent and studio backing.
While anyone can shoot a backyard movie, the odds of breaking through without established names are slim. By contrast, the game industry offers fewer gatekeepers, allowing small teams to reach audiences without marquee talent. Both mediums, however, share a common creative impulse: storytelling and experience design.
Dietsch reflected on his childhood fascination with both movies and games, noting that a simple Christmas camera and early programming on a TI‑83 calculator set him on a path that could have diverged in either direction. Ultimately, he believes that whether through film or interactive entertainment, the goal remains the same—to craft compelling narratives that engage and move the audience.