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 charge on pigs while firing machine guns, culminating in a shot of enormous, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the edit was the infamous snake gun, a feature that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was born from a child’s imagination. According to Dietsch, one of the developers’ sons asked, “What would a snake‑shooting gun look like?” Thanks to a rapid‑prototyping tool the studio had built, Dietsch was able to create a functional snake‑gun in roughly thirty minutes.
The novelty delighted the kid and earned a permanent place in the final game. That anecdote captures the chaotic, over‑the‑top gameplay that Join Us promises: an open‑world sandbox where players can amass followers—or teammates in co‑op mode—to build a 1970s‑style cult. It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a tiny crew to produce a high‑fidelity title that would normally require a far larger staff. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: “We wanted to be disruptors.
We told everyone we could deliver a AAA‑ish experience with just twelve people, and most people thought we were crazy.” The team’s confidence stems from a history of doing big things on shoestring budgets. Many of the founders came from indie filmmaking, where they learned to “punch above their weight.” After 80 pitches, they finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in Wolf Haus. The founders’ Hollywood pedigree runs deep.
Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson—son of Mel Gibson—and the two 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 turned his attention to Star Citizen.
Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us originated when Dietsch began tinkering with Unreal Engine.
“I discovered Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt there was a massive barrier to actually creating something,” he explains. He taught himself through YouTube tutorials, built a few small prototypes, and eventually settled on the concept of a doomsday cult simulator that blended survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. 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, had previously worked as a producer and screenwriter before moving into games in the early 2000s.
He founded Sekretagent Productions, providing narrative work for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later, Wendschuh launched several tech ventures, including the cannabis‑formulation company Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million. After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote restaurant on a tiny Canadian island, intending to retire. Yet, in classic Hollywood fashion, a call from his old roommate Michael Abbott pulled him back.
Abbott told him about a video‑game prototype Joe had built. “I watched the demo and it blew my mind, so I came out of retirement,” Wendschuh recalls. He introduced the project to Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros. Games VP now heading 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 the core team assembled, the next hurdle was financing—a daunting task during the industry downturn of 2023‑24. The studio began pitching in summer 2023, initially receiving positive feedback but little commitment.
After partnering with CAA in Los Angeles and re‑pitching in 2024, they finally closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh believes the CAA connection, which also represents titles like 007: First Light, was crucial, as were the veteran game industry advisers on the team. Despite the high‑profile backing, Join Us is being built by only thirteen full‑time staff. Dietsch emphasizes that the small‑team model is intentional: “We wanted everyone to have a voice, to touch the creative process, and to feel that the game is truly the product of this specific group.” To make such an ambitious title feasible, the studio invested heavily in custom tools from the outset.
“If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person,” Dietsch notes. The first year of development was split between ideating gameplay and constructing the tooling infrastructure that would keep the open‑world project from collapsing under its own weight. The equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike allowed Wolf Haus to self‑finance the development, with only a modest amount of project finance earmarked for marketing. This model gave the studio the freedom to build extensive internal tools, a practice encouraged by the investors who see studio‑wide value creation as part of their return strategy.
When asked about generative AI, the team’s stance is clear: they do not employ it for creative work. “We believe a human touch is essential for games,” says Dietsch.
“Turning development over to an AI would defeat the reason we get up in the morning.” Wendschuh adds that while they may use AI for mundane tasks like calendar management, none of it influences design, art, or writing. Interestingly, Krafton—positioned as an “AI‑first” company—explicitly required that Wolf Haus not rely on generative AI for its creative pipeline, mirroring similar statements from Krafton‑owned Neon Giant. The studio’s commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s world and audio. The six‑kilometre‑square map is entirely hand‑built, and the 15,000 voice lines are performed by human actors, not synthetic voices.
“That was non‑negotiable for us, even as a small indie,” Dietsch affirms. Dietsch also reflects on the differences between filmmaking and game development. In film, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring approvals, casting, and studio green‑lights.
In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours, allowing immediate iteration. “You can have an idea at breakfast and see it in the engine by lunch,” he says, highlighting the immediacy that fuels his passion. Wendschuh points out that traditional film production is front‑loaded with intense, high‑budget set work, often dependent on securing a handful of A‑list talent to attract studio financing.
While anyone can technically shoot a movie with a cheap camera, breaking through without marquee names is rare. By comparison, the barriers to entry for games are lower; a small team can reach a broad audience without needing celebrity endorsement. Both founders agree that the core creative impulse—telling stories and delivering experiences—remains the same across mediums. Dietsch recalls that as a child he wanted to make either movies or games, and a coin toss decided his path.
He learned programming on a TI‑83 calculator, and that early love for both disciplines still informs his work. “Whether you’re making a film or a game, you’re trying to give someone an experience, tell a story, and engage them,” he concludes.