One of the interesting arguments against the Cartesian theatre, is that consciousness is neither centralized nor unified, and instead of unity, we have disunity, or if you like, fragmentary processing, (or parallel processing). Of course, we are able to centralize at times, or focus, but as Virginia Woolf wrote beautifully somewhere, at any one time, my mind is full of Spinoza and the smell of cooking, and where are the spare socks, and so on.
These ideas are reinforced by the notion of the unconscious, where experiences exist which I am not able or willing to become conscious. But then they also do become conscious. Nightmare on Elm St!