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 while wielding machine guns, culminating in a shot of massive, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.
What didn’t make the final cut was the infamous snake‑gun, a quirky weapon that Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, says was born from a child’s off‑hand suggestion. "One of the developer’s kids asked, ‘What would a snake gun look like?’" Dietsch recalls.
"Because we had a modular weapon system, I could prototype it in about thirty minutes. The kid was thrilled, and the gun 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 to join a 1970s‑style cult. It also illustrates the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has enabled a small crew to produce a high‑fidelity experience that would normally require a much larger staff.
Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up the team’s ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors. We told everyone, ‘We don’t need a hundred people; twelve is enough.’ Most people laughed and said it was impossible." Their confidence stemmed from a background in indie filmmaking, where they had repeatedly learned to achieve big results on shoestring budgets. After 80 pitch meetings, the studio finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in Wolf Haus. The founding trio carries deep roots in Hollywood.
Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of Mel Gibson and fellow Wolf Haus co‑founder. Together they co‑wrote and co‑directed the indie features Happy Hunting and Manifest West.
Abbott, the son of veteran makeup artist Larry Abbott, helped launch Ascendant Pictures – the production company founded by Chris Roberts before his shift to Star Citizen – and later produced movies such as Fight for ’84 starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us began as a hobby project in Unreal Engine. "I discovered Unreal was free to download and started tinkering with YouTube tutorials," Dietsch explains.
Although he had never built a game before, he managed to put together a few small prototypes before committing to a larger vision. The concept that kept pulling him back was a doomsday cult simulator that blended survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics, merging his love of movies and games into a single intellectual property.
He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, anticipating that at some point a technical wall would force him to abandon the idea. When he showed the demo to Abbott, the latter immediately took it to Dooma, a partner studio.
Dooma’s CFO and narrative director, Dooma Wendschuh, had a film background before moving into games in the early 2000s, contributing writing to titles such as Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. He later founded several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for C$430 million (about $330 million USD). After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire.
Yet a call from his old Hollywood Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back into development. "I saw the demo and it blew my mind, so I came out of retirement," he says.
He introduced the project to Reid Schneider, a former Warner Bros. Games vice president 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 in place, the next hurdle was financing. The studio began pitching in the summer of 2023, a period marked by a broader industry downturn.
Initial reactions were positive—"this looks cool"—but securing capital proved difficult. After enlisting the Creative Artists Agency (CAA) as representation, Wolf Haus returned to the pitch circuit in 2024 and eventually closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton.
Wendschuh credits the CAA connection, which also represents titles like 007: First Light, and the presence of seasoned veterans such as Schneider and Chartrand for smoothing the path. "My agent Derek Douglas had represented me for twelve years in games and previously led the video‑game department at William Morris," Wendschuh notes. What truly sets Join Us apart is its development model: a full‑time roster of just thirteen people. "We entered the project with a clear understanding of scope and a desire to keep the team small, so everyone has a voice and touches the creative process," says Dietsch.
To make such an ambitious open‑world title feasible with limited manpower, the studio invested heavily in custom tooling from the outset. "Any system in the game must be scalable and debuggable by a single developer," he explains. The first year of development was therefore split between ideating gameplay and building the internal tools that would later allow the world to expand without collapsing under its own weight. The funding structure further supported this approach.
Krafton and Lifelike’s equity investment was used to self‑fund the game's development, with only a modest amount of project finance earmarked for marketing. This equity‑first model incentivized the investors to back the studio’s tool‑building ethos, because a robust toolset not only accelerates Join Us but also lays groundwork for future Wolf Haus projects.
When asked about the role of generative AI, Dietsch is unequivocal: the studio does not rely on it for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential. Using AI to generate assets would defeat the purpose of why we love making games," he says. Wendschuh adds that the only AI tools they employ are mundane productivity aids for calendar management and email drafting—not for art, design, or narrative.
Krafton’s stance aligns with the studio’s philosophy. Although Krafton has branded itself as an "AI‑first" company, its investment agreement explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline.
This mirrors a similar declaration from Neon Giant, another Krafton‑owned studio, which publicly distanced itself from AI‑driven development. The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s massive six‑kilometre‑square map and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors. "Even as a tiny indie, we felt it was crucial to keep everything hand‑made," Dietsch emphasizes. Dietsch also reflects on the contrast between filmmaking and game development.
In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, subject to studio approvals, casting, and scheduling. In games, an inspiration can be prototyped the same morning and instantly viewed in the engine. This immediacy fuels his enthusiasm for the medium.
Wendschuh observes that film production is heavily front‑loaded, requiring high‑profile talent to secure greenlights, whereas games face fewer gatekeepers, allowing small teams to achieve success without A‑list names. Both mediums, however, share a core creative drive: delivering an experience, telling a story, and engaging an audience.
Dietsch recalls his childhood fascination with both cameras and computers, noting that whether one makes movies or games, the ultimate goal remains the same—to craft memorable experiences for others.